The Last Time You Didn't Know Was the Last Time

Some endings come with a ceremony. Graduation, for example. There's a cap and a gown and a whole ritual designed to help your brain register: this chapter is done. But then there are the endings nobody marks. The last time your child reaches for your hand on a walk. The last time your dad says your name.

There’s been a lot of change in our family recently and there’s no indication that it’s going to stop anytime soon.

With Father’s Day, the Summer Solstice, and a weekend filled with the winds of change (literally), I just had to write about it. Here’s what’s been happening.

My husband got a new dream job (hallelujah!) My son turned 18 and graduated from high school. He’s planning on wwoofing (working on farms in exchange for room and board) in New Zealand in the fall. My daughter has set a goal of moving out early next year.

Just one of these things would be fairly dramatic, but put them all together and kapow! That’s a lot at once.

Not to mention that we’re moving from school year into summer, which means all the people are at home (where I work from) rather than at school. Just that transition alone has taken a few years to fully understand.

I used to be delusional and think that I was going to get so much more done in the summer than during the rest of the year.

Wise-current-me shakes my head at younger-naive-me.

How could I have possibly thought that having my husband and kids at home in the summer meant I would get more done???

Who knows? (Well… Me. Now. It just took a few years.)

With all these changes, I’ve been reflecting on transitions, endings, and beginnings.

Sometimes, we know when things are coming to an end. In other cases, we don’t know that it’s the last time for something. I didn’t know it was the last time when my son went from holding my hand to not holding my hand on walks.

I didn’t know it was the last time when my dad would say my name. (He has dementia now and is non-verbal.)

I also didn’t know it was the last time he would look me in the eyes. (He doesn’t connect that way anymore either.)

Although how we relate has changed, I still feel a strong bond of love and energy between us. I tug on my heart-strings that link with his heart-strings many times throughout the day.

I didn’t know it was the last time when my daughter would want to do our family ritual of gratefuls and proud-ofs each night. (When she was younger, she said she was going to do it forever, and even call us every night once she moved out.) So sweet, but that ritual has faded away.

I’m definitely finding these times to be bittersweet. There are occasional tears as I let go of my role of parent. At the same time, my heart swells as I move into the role of mentor. It’s less about getting my kids to do things my way and more about helping guide them into their own answers and choices. (Which is sometimes REALLY challenging! Don’t they know I have all the answers? LOL.)

There are so many opportunities to let go of attachments - to how I thought things were going to be, or how I think they should be.

I think the most important way I’m showing up for myself right now is to be tender and to let myself feel the feelings.

If I’m moved, I cry.

If I’m attached, I breathe consciously and invite energy to flow through my heart.

If I’m trying to control, I surrender.

If I’m joyful, I dance or sing or partake in some other form of merriment. (Just this weekend, at our Father’s Day Celebration at my dad’s care facility, I sang a whole playlist of campsongs to my niece, including Poor Little Bug on the Wall in variety of styles including opera and cowboy. It was one of my dad’s favourite songs to sing around the fire.)

Earlier in the weekend, my husband and I went to see the new Toy Story movie. (Not his favourite but there was a draw for a chance to win a trip for 4 to DisneyWorld so I just had to get tickets. I’ll let you know if we win!)

I thought the movie was excellent. The primary message was about technology and how to ensure that it has a helpful role in our lives but that we don’t let it take over.

A more subtle message that surfaced as my husband and I discussed the movie after seeing it was relevant to what I’m sharing today.

The toys were worried about becoming irrelevant and being replaced by technology. In the end, they formed an alliance with the tech toys to give their kids the best childhood possible.

The sentiment from the toys was along the lines of: We just want to know that we mattered and that we were there for our kid when they needed us. We helped them become who they are, even if they don’t play with us anymore.

Twenty-two years of being all the things, and now I'm learning to let go of every single one of them.

Because our ultimate goal is their self-sufficiency.

We were there for them in every way possible to help them grow into exceptional people who make a contribution and are adept at making their own decisions.

Every single day, I’m reminded that what used to be up to me is now in their hands. And - whew! It can be challenging to let go.

After all, I have 49 years of experience of learning and thus knowing the “best way to do things.” What I have to keep remembering is that it’s the best way to do things for me. Not for everyone. My kids need to figure out their own way, and experience is such a great teacher.

So, like in Toy Story 5, I’m landing in the truth that I was there for them in the best way possible when they needed me in that way, and now I’m learning a new way to be there for them as we all evolve and grow.

Interesting times, that’s for sure.

I'm sharing this because I know I'm not the only one in a season of quiet letting go.

If we can devote ourselves to navigating our immediate circumstances with grace and understanding, it makes it much easier to flow through the significant changes and transformations happening all over the world as well.

May you move with grace with whatever changes you’re experiencing right now.

With flowing love and big-hearted courage,

Christina

🕺Creator of Courageous Self-Care

🕺Currently listening to my kids and their significant others laugh together downstairs - what a gift

🕺Debating how much more energy I should put into conveying to my kids that bread and cheese is not a food-group. (Probably none.)