There Is No "Harmonious-Families-For-Dummies"
Part Two of “Letting Go Of Young Adults”
Letting go of your child when they (legally) come of age, or even when they spiritually settle into an adult dynamic (around 21) is about many things but it seldom comes as a relief. A child is not something you can flush away. A spray of airfreshner, and you’re done.
I don’t know if it is harder for single mums, but I suspect it may be more intense - especially if you don’t have an ex in your personal life to share this transitional phase with; or a new partner to help distract you. I imagine, also, that instances of children being ripped away compile to the trauma (thinking of drugs, drink, lover-boys, crime, mental illness or whatsmore).
My friend and I share some intensifying factors regards our motherhood, but in my eyes she is more elegant and serene about this phase of motherhood than I find myself, right now.
Perhaps, there is a formula in that: where an older (more experienced) parent hands down their trust to a younger one. It is not about the (minimal) age difference, but the fact of having done it all before. She has already had one daughter move out successfully to a lovely flat with a sweet guy, and a kitten to finish the domestic bliss off (for now...).
The second daughter is a very different kettle of fish, but she will be left in the best of circumstances when her mother leaves for Portugal (a couple of hours away by plane). She has her older sister nearby, a (vague) dad somewhere in the background, and many social contacts (in real life) to keep her occupied. College may be a bit of a worry, but she may surprise herself yet. Her epilepsy is medicated for, and the accommodation is paid for. She has a part-time job she dilligently keeps; and between that and her many friends, she was already hardly ever home (for dinner) and when she was, she needed her space and quiet me-time. I relate to how this spells out unmistakeably to a mother: your job is done.
Innocent, vulnerable, nervous and barely adult
Possibly, my friend has been a lot closer to her children than I could be with my emotionally detached son (with autism). I may have clocked more hours dedicated soley to my son, but she had more quality time with her girls, all in all. To be frank, I have few positive memories to recall (it’s been hard work day in day out and my parents have often been more of a hinder than a help to my personal emotional state). Still, both of us feel a sadness about letting go which feels like losing a child. We wonder much why this is so.
Despite the many differences in our lives, and the few reference points our children ever shared (when they were briefly at the same Waldorf school), my friend’s daughter compares in quite a number of ways to my son - maybe it’s generational, maybe it’s karmic, maybe it’s because my friend and I seem to have a very similar spiritual outlook which may have some indirect bearing.
Her daugher is also young for her age (19) just like my son (20). These are children who don’t do well under pressure. Their gift to our world is to think outside the box (in their own time). Both are highly impressionable and easily lead by tall stories; fortunately, neither drink or show an interest in sex. They are both useless around the house and struggle to keep time and organise their life beyond the most imminent matters at hand. This can make them seem recalcitrant and aloof; but other people generally cut them some slack. They have ambition but again, do little to fulfill it on their own initiative. They can be annoyingly lazy and make poor dietary choices. They are addicted to their phones! Any normal parent would say:that’s student life for you! Only our children still live at home and have shown no desire to live on their own and party all night (they just forget to go to bed when talking to a friend). My son still looks for comfort with his cuddly toys. Her daughter still likes to watch Marvell films with her mother on the sofa. Let’s face it folks, nobody is a grown-up at 19/20!
We have to accept that people are all more infantile now than thirty years ago, and our kids’ adolescent tendencies fit the modern picture. And we are all encouraged to leave eachother free and mind our own business.... Gone are the days, far, far away, when parents could disapprove of a relationship, which did not meet the family's criteria. The children were more than likely to marry in accordance with "expectation", sensitive of class (background) and wealth
A lot of tommy-rot (and King Edward VIII and Mrs Wallace-Simpson did much to break that corset) these formalities of a man asking the father for his daughter's hand in marriage, or not, it wouldn't help me out much: for it is I, the mother of a son, who am adamant about saying no to the Psychic Vampire. There is no point advising my own child, for he never took any pointers ever on board (he is incapable it seems).
Fitness for the soul
Esoteric (anthroposophical) human-science gives you till around 28 to fully establish a working-identity. By 35 you’ll come to doubt that same ID again. You will go through one or more crises, and come out with something more definitive at 42, and by then you should feel no need to look for excuses not to be responsible in all you do and are. At 49 you arrive somehow, somewhere, a little the worse for wear usually, quite ragged if you’ve done some serious introspection and held nobody but yourself truly accountable for your life. You may identify karmic loads, but not to blame your past or ancestors, only to help develop your training programme for the soul that has to bear or transform it.
Grieving Mother
My friend has come to the stage where she has been able to work her way through her concerns about her daughter’s vulnerabilities, weighing up all the pros and cons of her own emigration. She is ready to let go in trust. She feels confirmed in her choice by her finest maternal intuition. She is acting out of love and with that powerful female force, which ennobles a mature woman.
She has tapped into her heart and that of her daughter. There is a connection that exists outside of time and which sanctifies this choice. Both may miss eachother terribly at times, the three of them may feel incomplete for many years to come, because the loosening of apron stings in order to tie prettier bows with ribbons takes time, as all natural earth processes do. This time will feel like a period of mourning. Change is close to loss. Think of the Pieta, where the mother holds her dead son: only he is not lost! Think of the Madonna with her child, often prefiguring this translation from one state of being to another: the baby is born to incarnate a god and die (on the cross). Life must have its gravitas, its melancholy, its Fado….
Next time: I will conclude this three part monograph on the difficulties of letting go as a mother with my own progress, so far.
The detail of the man reaching to pick from the tree is a study for In The Time of Harmony by Signac (my photo from a picture in a book, "Signac, 1863–1935" by The Metropolitan Museum of Art.