Being a Parent, a mother, is tough work. Having a child, is like having a piece of your heart outside of you, beating, exposed vulnerable to all kinds of things, hurts and bruises included.
And yet it is the most rewarding. I remember, My Son was born, almost on cue. August 15th. The doctors had given me 28th as the date, but I remember talking to him and asking if he can come earlier, August 15th – India’s Independence Day. He did. I have told him the little story many times.
It was freeing. It made me something I had dreamt of becoming, ever since I knew I could become a mother someday. Mother and Son share a special bond, just like Fathers and daughters do. Atleast many.
Being the mother of a Son, and then watching him walk out of the door with his ”things”, perhaps is one of the hardest part. It’s hard, because in the same moment, there is grief that your little baby is leaving home, stepping out of the nest, and immense pride and joy that he can. He is ready.
We give birth and say good-bye many times and at no time it is easy. But it does get slowly counterweighed by happiness that they are now ready to start their life.
When our children leave home, and if they do, It means we have done our job right. Our Role as Parent is to make ourselves redundant. It gives the precious gift of trust, faith and pride, to the children to know they can do it. And that you Trust that they can.
That becomes the wind beneath their wings. Your Faith, Trust and Pride .
It is not easy, and I don’t know how it would feel to be a mother of a daughter, who I know will one day leave anyway. Being the mother of a Son, I still stumble every time I let him go. Even at 25.
And I still sometimes forget – he has grown..
I recall a memory when he was 2.5 years old. And we went to drop him to Nursery. It was the first day first time at school and he would be in a strange environment for the first time.
I was so anxious I did not sleep the whole night. Will he be ok. Will he know where to go, would the other kids trouble him, will he fall, will bang his head, will the teacher be nice to him. I am telling you an anxious mothers head is like a Stephen king novel, all kinds of imaginary horror stories happen. Of course at the end of each version – you come with a cape and ‘rescue him” – that most will not admit to.
I decided, if he cried or anything we could bring him back, “What was the hurry, he has to go to school for the next 15 years anyways”, I rationalised. When we took him to the gate, it was a crazy scene, so many children were bawling and running back, parents crying, at the gates of the school.
My panic increased. And then I saw, Tanishq’s face. He was calm, smiling and had a mischief in his eyes as he looked at all this crying mayhem. An amused look on his face.
But when he starts to go inside he will cry, I thought. Or I hoped, I guess.
But as soon as he went inside, Tanishq walked without faltering, without crying or looking back. He walked as if he knew the place. He did not look back
That day I learnt something about him. something I knew he knew. That he was OK. That he knew we were there. Standing watching, having his back. That he would always make it no matter what.
I also learnt something about myself, that there was a part of me that wanted him to come back, that wanted me to take care and tell him “I will protect you from the world”, and that part had to grow up too. I needed to take a page from his book. I vowed I would not use my son and his sure steps, to manage my faltering ones.
We both, went to school that day.
As parents we give birth not just to one person but to many. One that goes to school, one that will have all kinds of friends, one that will get into trouble with teachers, one that will have his heart broken, one that will stand up for what is right, one that is confused, on that is resilient and so on. And each of these people will one day leave.
We may not get to say good bye to all, some just don’t make a fuss when they leave. And yet the impression is etched on the hearts and bodies of the parents. Some parts of my hand still can feel his bumpy head when he would lie in my lap and I would pat him to sleep while singing.
As a Single mother this role has been tougher for me. I had to do a lot of balancing, and often I failed at being both. On one side, nursing his wounded knee or broken heart or waiting till he reached his friends place and messaged “I reached” and then going to sleep. – To doing the tough love , saying things without mincing words when he slipped, to pushing him out of the nest knowing that was what was best.
I would feel the shiver inside when I have had to do that. But deep down there is wisdom that knows it is the right thing to do.
Just because it is right does not mean it will be easy. But you do it anyway. Love is Tough.
Some day we have to be their strength and someday they will be.
Few months ago, When my Son had COVID it was my worst nightmare. I think it is the worst thing for any parent to see their child suffering and not be able to do anything.
At home in isolation just him and me, his cough would make my heart beat so loudly that I could not sleep. Those times I think I felt the presence of God very strongly. I was worried and helpless but not afraid. I just knew God would protect him. Like he always has.
When he got admitted, It was a fully quarantined Covid Hospital. And he was in a special room with two other more serious patients. We were told nobody was allowed to go to that floor.That did not stop me. It could not. Not them not Covid. I think we under estimate the power of a mothers determination when it comes to fighting for her childs wellbeing.
Sometimes, you have to fight with the child for the same thing.
One on the most important lessons I have learnt being a parent is to give up the “Popularity contest”.
Some days your child is not going like you, even hate you for what “you are saying and doing”. They will feel you are Pushing, because you will be at times. But that day will also end, just like other times, and your child would have grown.
Years ago I saw this beautiful film, “Even Eagles need a Push” and that has stayed with me. The mother Eagle must also be going through anxiety, uncertainty, is the chick ready?, can it fly, will it fall, is it the Right time. And through all this she still has to Push Sometimes it can be the biggest act of Love. Because that day the Chick discovers the strength of his own wings. Nature, and us have our inbuilt wisdom
When I left him in a boarding school, after my divorce, It was very hard. I could also see the accusation in his eyes. Again I had to fight the “societal norms” where people accused me of many things. I had to just Pray that this was the right thing and that one day, the Truth will reveal itself. There was no way to knowing this for sure – I just had to hang on to Faith. God came through yet again. A few years later and since, He tells me time and again that going to the boarding school was one of the best things for him. He and his schoolfriends are often inseparable. I let out a Sigh of relief!!!
That day he become his own Person.
I have also seen the other side.
Mothers often have a difficult time letting go of their sons and vice versa. It gets masked in all kinds of narrative, mostly “Care and love”. Yes it is difficult to come to terms with the fact, that you are not at the center of their universe. That they can survive without you. And that they also need to someday start their own nest.
There is often this “Guilt and even shame” that the society and then the Mother consciously and unconsciously drives. That they would want to have their own dream, own home, own center is somehow perceived as rejection and betrayal.
I have had to learn this the hard way. That my Identity was not just one of being a Mother. And his was not just one being a Son.
In my work I see so many people, often making the One identity of “the Son” the dominant one. I can imagine it is very stressful to breakout and draw boundaries. Difficult also because the “society” frowns. “You are leaving your Mother??”, Unsaid – shame on you.
Our Mythology is filled with stories of Mother and Son, and battles fought to make the mother happy.
Love and attachment can’t be a forced thing, it cannot be a guilt based decision. If our children don’t feel loved and safe enough to share openly their dreams because we will be hurt – we have failed.
It is our job to provide that space in which they can test their wings and fly and yet know they can always come back to rest and you will be happy and proud, no matter what.
Our children’s preoccupation cannot be to earn our happiness, love and approval all the time. That is their right. If it is not, then we have failed.
Neither are they our surrogate, we cannot put the pressure of our unlived lives and hopes on them, It is not fair. Which we keep doing. Children are forced choices of studies and vocation with, “well Intentioned” dialogues like “because we didn’t get the opportunity, we struggled hard and so we are giving it to you” – the unsaid is – You owe us big time The child poor thing is so indebted that he has to sacrifice his soul for this. And repeatedly they do.
“Carl Jung once said, ‘The greatest burden a child must bear is the unlived life of the parents.
The Umbilical chord is cut many times. And needs to, because if it is not the Children never learn to breathe on their own. Never have the courage to go after their dreams. And in not doing so, we unknowingly cripple them. Is this love? Cutting the Chord we give of the most beautiful gift “Freedom”. Cutting the chord does not mean cutting ties. Attachment is different from Love
Talking to a friend, she said, she was afraid of letting her son go, ‘why’, I asked her.. She said with a lot of concern in her voice, she was afraid that, “he would not be able to survive without me”.
“Does he want to go”, I asked – ‘yes’, she said.
I felt really sad and angry, for both of them, at the same time. I has to ask her point blank was she afraid he would not survive or that he actually would.
She understandably was afraid for herself, and the redundancy. And the risk of facing herself.
It is not fair that our children become our crutches. They should be our strength. Yes. Not our weakness.
My son had been staying with me for last one month, transitioning from one house to another. And my house was filled with all his packed boxes and things everywhere. And we had fallen into a kind of routine around all this. Yesterday he finally left to his new house.
The grief was a lot, I cried a lot. The house seemed suddenly empty and quiet. I turned corners used to bumping into his things, see his pillows on the floor and they were not there. I went to the bathroom, used to seeing his many toiletries and they were not there.
I felt sad, distracted and annoyed. I even ate a full large cup of ice-cream. My husband asked If I wanted to go there and help him settle. And my answer was a Clear No.
I had to do my grief work myself. And my Son had to settle into his house himself. Not his mothers version of his house. Although I “suggested” that he should take some plants. But he said a firm No
It is funny some No’s feel so good.
No matter how many times he has to leave, it will never be easy. That was just the nature of things I guess.
In the night he called me on Video, something he does not often do. In the 6-7 hours he had “set” his new house. Complete with fresh sheets, clothes neatly kept in his cupboard, and lamp kept and lit aesthetically in one corner.
I felt a surge of pride at how well he did his house the way he wanted. He looked tired and yet happiness glowing on his face as he was finally in his space. He proudly showed me the whole house and all boxes unpacked. For me all the Boxes were ticked. Almost.
My Son had grown into a Man. And I am so proud of who is becoming everyday. Something settled down in my heart, at the excitement and contentment of a new journey for him. He had started to build his own nest. I couldn’t be more proud.
A Mothers role is never over, it cannot be. But it grows and morphs and sometimes we have to see our children also as individuals.
Perhaps, we if we did, we would have “adults” in our society not just people who have never really grown up. Who still throw tantrums, who still take “mother earth” for granted. Who still need “Approval” from someone outside. Who still can’t find their true “belonging”. Who struggles in their relationships.
Most people roam around, deep inside feeling like Orphans. As parents we also need to evolve and grow and learn to distinguish between Love and Need, between freedom and guilt. Between Care and manipulation. Between Mothering and Smothering.
Maybe If we let them go – We can help them Grow.
We need to not just love but also respect our children. For who they are their choices the success and failures. And to trust that our bond is not so weak that it cannot handle distances, or other relationships.
We didn’t have to attach our self importance to them needing us – Infact it was the opposite.
Today is Dusserra. The day for new beginnings indeed.
Children – Khalil GibranYour children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
6 Comments