I have been learning a lot about myself over the past few years. Discovering where my heart's passion truly lies, unearthing my personal voice, redefining love and what it means for me in my life. It has been an amazing journey, and one I recognize I am on for the duration! These lessons learned open to new experiences that create new lessons and thus new learning to be done~
This is my Daniel. He is 17 1/2 and grabbed me-heart and soul at birth. He has a tender gentle countenance and the person he is, the soul he possesses, speaks to me poignantly. Each of my children holds an exalted, unique place in my heart and I can not do this living without each and every one of them: There's just something about Daniel.
He is the second baby. Where Conner reeled back, screaming at the stars for the first few months of his life, Daniel gently cuddled, latched on and peacefully connected. He was an 'oops' baby; growing the family wasn't the plan just yet. Daniel can be 'blamed' as the catalyst to my big family~he made me want more.
The day after his 16th birthday he moved to Michigan to live with his father. We'd lived there for five years until moving to Washington in 2004. My boys developed a connection to the midwest that I did not. Where they want to call Okemos, Michigan their home, I connect to it angst, struggle, heartache and falling away. I can get a sense of their emotional connection to the area, but I still have a bubble of disappointed quandary in the trying to understand it. Their experiences there are so very different than mine; we simple can not emotionally identify on the same level. It pains me that I could not give them my love of the west coast, but I have to let that go and know that they are finding their own way.
I struggle with Daniel's absence from my daily rounds. It is so very odd to have a child not living under your roof. Even if, as living under this roof, we simply said good morning, have a great day, and ate dinner together before rushing off to our own activities, he was still here in my sites. I see him three times a year now. I play a game with myself when the pain of this is too strong. I imagine him a brilliant savant who was whisked off to Yale at an early age. Silly mom.
Deep down I recognize the rightness of his choice and the good it is for his life. I just struggle with the changing form of this love, the loss of connection, and the building of a new relationship description. How do parents let go and let live? Or, how do you get to where the letting go is not married to pain and angst? I have never been a gripping, controlling mother, I believe I've created very independent, self sufficient children for the world, but I still cry as he gets on the plane alone. I still baulk at photos taken of myself with three boys, not four. Perhaps there just is no letting go. The belly button is a testament to this: The cord has been cut physically, but emotionally it is wrought in steel to never be cleaved. in love. trish
I make these and think of Daniel every time Krispie Treats
6 cups rice krispies
1 c corn syrup
1c sugar
1 c creamy peanut butter
1 c chocolate chips
1c butterscotch chips
In a small saucepan heat the corn syrup and sugar until bubbling. Remove from heat and stir in peanut butter. Pour this mixture over the krispies in a large bowl. Stir to combine. Press into a greased 9x13 casserole dish. Melt both chips together in the microwave; 30 second bursts with stirring in between. Spread over krispies. Cool and cut! super sweet yumminess.
