Dear Mama,

I'm going to be a grandma. Things are going so fast since you left us, mama. I wish you could meet Brittany. You would love her. She's sweet, and country, and perfect for Shane. I think this is the first time he's ever truly been in love. And I'm so thankful that God put her in his life.

My family is growing by leaps and bounds mama. It's amazing how fast it happened. Matt has found himself a wonderful girl. We just got to meet her last week. She's from Wisconsin, her name is Melissa. And she's a sweetheart. She would remind you a lot of me. She talks super fast, which I love. Finally someone who can keep up with me.

Amanda has a new love as well, Isaiah. They're planning on getting married. She asked him. I know that doesn't surprise you a bit, she's an assertive little fart. Always has been. Oh, and they've all moved out. But don't worry, I'm not alone. Hunter and Lolo are here most days. So I am plenty active. And when they go home I turn off the TV, put on some music, and chill.  It's so nice mama. I'm working on getting healthy. I want to live to a ripe old age. I hope I can live up to the huge shoes that you left to be filled. You were the best grandma I have ever seen. I hope I can be half as good as you were.

Love you mama, miss you always,

Chronosynchronicity

Perhaps those few of you who read this blog religiously realized that I recently changed the name of it. Thirty Minutes of Wonderful never really fit the blog, it was mostly an homage to a quote that I loved from a movie that I still love. Recently, while scrolling through a list of obscure words, I came across this one:

Chronosynchronicity: the presentation of all stages of a person's life in a single piece of art. 

I don't know that I would call a blog "art", but then if these exhibits count as art, why not this as well? At any rate that description spoke to me. When I started this blog it was mostly about my weight loss journey. Which is an ongoing struggle and the one thing most posted about here. But it was also about my family, my kids, my husband, and my extended family. When I began it my mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and my world was in a whirlwind. So much has happened and much of it has never been posted here because it is private, personal information. But I want this blog to continue to be a record, if you will, of all the stages of my life. And so I share another stage with you today.

Yep, that's an empty nest.

On May 30th, while hubby and I were on a camping trip my boys moved out. We knew it was coming, it wasn't unexpected. The camping trip had been planned months ago, the moving out only came within the last month. Both boys had recently found jobs about an hour drive from here. And they were tired of making the long trek to work and back daily. So they had begun to look for an apartment in the last couple of months and started seriously saving to move out.

They found the apartment just a few weeks before our trip and chose to move out that weekend because it was the easiest time for them. They would receive a month's free rent at their new place if they were in it before June 1. And it just worked for them. So when we left for our camping trip, we knew we would come home to an emptier house.

The Moody Crew back in the day.

As hubby and I lay in our bed our first night home we were each quiet, lost in our own thoughts. "Whatcha thinkin' bout?" I asked
"I guess I'm just a little down about the boys, I didn't think it would bother me this much."
We snuggled closer and held each other. It's strange when your kids move out. I have to continuously remind myself that they aren't dead, they've just moved out. They aren't gone, they're just... gone.

I remember arguing with my boys so much when they were home over silly, stupid little things. I miss arguing with them. Don't get me wrong now, I don't want them to stay home forever. I want my kids to move out and start their own lives. I want them to be their own person, making their own decisions. It's just... different. For as long as I can remember I've been a mom. My job has been caring for my kids, and I've slowly been weaning myself off of that while they were here. But it's not just being a mom that I miss. It's the company, the conversations, I even miss the eye rolling and the complaining.

But along with missing them and wishing they were still here is yet another feeling, an anticipation for the new life that is to come. A curious spirit, a wondering. What's next? What will this next chapter of our lives be like? The only thing that I can do now is hope and pray that I taught my children as well as I could. I made mistakes, show me a parent who hasn't. But the one thing my children know is that I love them. I have loved them with all that I am for all of their lives. And I will always love them and be here for them no matter what. So as we all begin this next exciting and terrifying journey, we'll do it together, and separate, and we'll do it with hearts full of love. 

BMD, AMD

Time has marched on, and the day I have dreaded for a few years is quickly approaching. My sons will be moving out soon. 

Harry

I am both happy and saddened by this. My one desire for my children is that they would grow up to be strong, independent, productive members of society. I want them to have their own space, to know joy and embrace life. But I want them to do all of that while still under my wings, darn it!  Ignore that, that's the controlling part of me screaming, and the mothering part of me crying out.  Soon my nest will truly be empty. And this is one of those times that I find my heart crying out for mama. 

Kevin Jarrett

Sometimes it seems as if my life is measured in two sections. BMD: Before Mama Died, and AMD: After Mama Died.  Before mama died I have memories, lovely memories. And I have regrets. So many things I wish I had done that I didn't do. Why didn't we go try on wedding dresses? The only thing she asked to do, but we never found the time to do it. Why didn't I go visit her more? Force her to move in with me? Move in with her?  The why's and what if's would drive me crazy if I let them. So I shush them and just try to remember the good times. Her singing and dancing in the kitchen with me. The look on her face when we gave her the train she'd always wanted for Christmas. 

AMD is full of times I need her reassurances that this too shall pass. Like now. What was it like for her when we were all out of the house? How did she handle this aching? It's crazy, the things that I never thought to ask her before, but now, now that I am going through these things, I want to ask her. How do I handle this mama? What did you do?  

Parenting Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Sooner

My children are grown. There will be no more muddy hand prints on the front door. The time when they would rush up to me and hug me tight, just because, has left. They still hug me, but now it's when they're leaving.  And sometimes, when I think back over our years together, there are some lessons I wish I had learned sooner.

"They grow up so fast."  Every person who has ever had a child has said this.  You never get it till they're almost grown. Then you desperately try to grab those moments. By the time I realized it my children were teenagers, and felt like I was smothering them; I was.  The dishes can pile up, the house may be a wreck, there will be grass to mow and bills to pay, budgets to balance and money to stress over. You will never get these days back.  Let it all go, and go play with your children.

We cuss, smoke, drink, gossip, and call people names.  And we wonder where our children get it from. You can tell them all day long. They are watching you.  Who you are will become a big part of who they will be. Your actions speak louder than your words. Use their scrutiny to become a better person, and you will, in turn, teach your child to be one.

When I grew up you did what your parents said, unquestionably.  And so when my children were younger I had this same stance. You do what I say, when I say it, because I said to do it. If I told my child to sit on the couch, I wanted them to sit in the exact spot I told them to sit in. And sit, don't lie down.  So many ridiculous battles I fought. What difference did it make which spot they were in or if they were sitting or lying down? The simple fact that they did go to the couch was obedience. Living with me at times was like living with the Borg, resistance was futile.  And when it came to questioning me about anything, that was unacceptable.

I wish I had answered the questions, why? what? how? I wish I had taken the time to teach them to ask questions, to seek answers; to learn. I had tried harder to encourage their free spirit and strong wills, rather than stamp them into my cookie cutter molds.

And then there was one....

Flickr

On August 24th my Shaner will be moving out. He and a friend of his have found a place and he's ready to spread his wings. And again I am torn. My heart is aching and full of pride at the same time.  Having kids is such an amazing and heart wrenching journey.

When they first burst into your life screaming, peeing, never sleeping little monsters you're both amazed and horrified. You can't believe that this little human being lived inside of you for nine months. You take your little bundle home and settle in for a good rest because you're exhausted from the trial of giving birth. And then they cry. They cry when they're hungry, when they're sleepy. They cry when they want held, when they need changed. They cry over everything. And you're pretty sure you're going to go crazy because it's been two weeks since you brought this little angel/devil home and you're not sure if you're ever going to sleep again. But mixed in with these moments of insanity are also moments of intense joy. Like when you're feeding your baby and it wraps it's tiny hand around your pinky finger.  And you marvel at the tiny fingers, toes, eyes, ears, and mouth.  Or maybe the first time they smile at you and your heart feels like it's going to explode inside your chest. In a single year you'll see such a marvelous transformation. Sleeping through the night for the first time, holding up their head, rolling over, crawling, pulling up, walking, getting teeth, begining to verbalize. So much happens and it goes so quickly. And you look back at the end of that year and can't believe how far they've come.

Then they become a toddler and when they aren't trying to climb to the very top of your house you're sure they're trying to kill themselves. They'll stick their fingers into anything that is open, just because they can. Everything goes into the mouth and you're forever saying, "No," and "Stop that!"  And sometimes you forget that this rambunctious little being is the center of your world. Because you're tired and you're frustrated and you just want a break. And you sit down to cry and little hands touch your face and a tiny voice says, "Why you tryin' mama?" And you smile and say something silly to make them laugh. And you realize how much they've grown in such a short time.

Soon they're prepubescent, which is basically a fancy word for 13 going on 30.  They talk back, they're asserting their independence more. And you're ready to scream. You'll gladly go back to that toddler stage and pull them down off the top of the refrigerator or save them from hanging on to the shower head because at least then you ruled the world. At that point in time you were always right and never wrong. And tensions build. But you watch them become young men and women. You go to ball games and scream like a crazy woman. And though they blush and act like you're the most embarrassing person in the world, you know that secretly they love it. So you scream all the louder. You ride bikes with them, play board games. You take walks and talk about things you couldn't talk about before.

Then they become teenagers. And they can do things for themselves, and for you. And it's a wondrous and terrifying time again. Because having their help is awesome. But now more than ever they don't want to be treated like your child. They're "adults" and don't mind telling you. Often and loudly.   And you struggle for that perfect balance of letting them make their own mistakes and still being the parent that they need you to be whether they realize it or not. And you go on date nights. And they confide in you. And they tell you how much they love you.  And you cherish every moment because you know they'll be gone all too soon.

And then they are. And you have to trust that you did all that you could. That you raised them to the best of your ability with the help and grace of the good Lord. And you just have to believe that they'll be ok. And that's the hardest part. The letting go part. Because how do you just let go of someone that you have nurtured and cared for for 18 years or more. How do you set them loose in the world and trust that they'll be ok?  You pray. And you worry, and call, and stress. And they tell you to "chill out mama".