The more things change, the more they... change...

One year ago, my life changed completely. For 25 years, I had self-identified first and foremost as a mom, and my life revolved around the needs and wants of someone else. My work schedule was set to accommodate the schedule of a busy teen. My evening hours were occupied by her activities, and my daytime hours were constantly on call, in case she found herself in need.

In addition, my other child, the college graduate, [several times over, read professional student,] moved away to another life as a doctoral candidate in a state far away. It is a world that is unfamiliar to me, and in which I have no part at all.

As my children know, I didn't start out intending to be Super Mom. I was going to be Mary Tyler Moore when I grew up, single and free, a career woman with a fabulous life in the city. Marriage and family were not a part of that plan. To a solitude loving adolescent on a farm in SE Minnesota, her life looked glamorous and exciting, and I dreamed of walking in her footsteps to have the same kind of experience.

It never occurred to me that Mary was often lonely. That is the adult observation, lost on a kid with big dreams and no coherent plan.

I never had much interest in little children as a kid. I was the youngest in my own immediate family and one of the youngest in both extended families, so I didn't have much exposure to them. I rarely babysat other people's children, and I was never the one to ooh and ah over the babies in church.

It wasn't that I disliked children. I even taught Sunday School and Bible school when I was in high school, and I had fun doing it. [I don't know if the kids had fun - you would have to ask them, and I'm not naming names.] I just wasn't really interested in going there myself.

However, life, as it has a way of doing, dropped a bomb on my plans, first, in the form of a spouse, and then an unexpected baby a year later. Becoming a mother was an event which changed everything I thought and expected from life. Suddenly, my world revolved around a tiny creature whose well being was the most important thing in my universe. After I recovered from the shock, I embraced the unexpected opportunity that came my way, and found the map that would guide my life journey to be much clearer.

I threw myself into the job with complete abandon, and I worked hard to be the best mother I could be. Note, I did not say perfect. That is not an achievable goal, and I, for one, am smart enough to know it. If we ended the day with more good memories than bad, it was a good day. [I also learned not all days can be good days, but that's another blog altogether.]

Fast forward to one year ago, when my life was in review, forced into change once again by the leave-taking of my youngest. Making myself obsolete had been the focus of the last 25 years of my life, and now that it was coming to fruition, it felt like I was cut adrift in the vast sea of the unknown. I have felt like that at other times in my life, of course, but mostly when I was the one initiating the change. It is a very different experience to be on the outside looking in, the one left behind, having to make the new normal comfortable for myself.

It has been an interesting year, and I think all three of us could agree that we wouldn't have imagined the year going quite the way it has for any of us. It is not bad to deviate from the course you thought you set; sometimes it is for the best to be flexible. But it can be surprising when you find yourself somewhere other than where you thought you would be when you are looking back on the journey.

I have had some reminders in the last few days of that magnificent change that was thrust upon me twelve short and long months ago, as I have watched friends send their first child, their last child, their middle child, off into the world of the unknown. A brief acquaintance that I made this week put words to the feeling that most mothers have - "When he is there, I hold my heart outside my body; when he comes home, I can put it away again."

She was not talking about college, she was talking about her son in the military, currently in Afghanistan, and it was an image that helped me understand the fear that she lived with every day that he was gone. But it was also an emotion with which I could relate. Sooner or later, every mother has to let go of her child's hand and allow them to cross the street of life unattended. It is scary for everyone the first time, but eventually, when you see them on the other side having so much fun, its worth the momentary discomfort, and it's better for both of you.

I have found, in this year, some new pursuits, along with a new freedom to enjoy life my way. I am engaging in activities I never imagined I would. I am feeling old passions anew. I am suddenly daring to dream about things that have long been shelved, and open to experiences that I haven't been interested in until now.

At 50, I am no longer young. I have less life ahead than behind me, and I'm okay with that. I no longer worry about changing the world - I'll leave that to someone else. I am at an age where I look back with fondness at things which once seemed constraining, unthinkable even just a few years ago. I am settled inside my own skin, and I no longer feel the urge to make something more of myself than who I am.

I have felt interesting emotions, watching friends send off their children as I did a year ago, and seeing how they handle it. Contrary to sitcom portrayals or funny commercials, most parents neither cling to nor forget about their children who are moving away into a new life of their own.

I doubt many mothers have dropped their child into their new situation without shedding a tear, but most of them don't camp out in the dorm or barracks, either. Most dads will help one more time with setting up the bunk or giving advice, but they are usually the first one out the door for the return trip home.

When a child leaves your home, whether first, last, or middle, your life relentlessly changes. The child whose life rhythm has become so familiar you don't even think about the myriad ways in which you accommodate them leaves a gaping hole in your equilibrium when they are suddenly missing. After 18 years of putting them first, it's difficult to put them away in the back of your mind, and accept that they can get along without you. But if you have done your job well and they were a good student of your teaching, they will do better than get along - they will ultimately excel.

As I look to the unknown future, I do not worry that my children will find their way in their own lives. Each of them has charted their course, and the journey they are taking is to a destination of their own choosing. It is fascinating to see them grow and mature and change, becoming the adult they were always meant to be.

I am nostalgic today, as I look back a year in time and see how far we have all come. My eldest child talks about credit ratings and triathlon training and is already worrying about getting a job in the working world despite several years to go on the final [I'll believe that when I see it] degree. My youngest is preparing for a semester abroad in a place she hadn't even dreamed about when she left home one short year ago.

They have met new people, and seen new places. They have tried new activities, and fought through life issues mostly on their own. They are both dealing with balancing the many demands on their time and learning how to prioritize to get everything done that needs to be accomplished. I am amazed and gratified to observe how well they have handled the transition.

I am also wistful as I gaze from a growing distance upon the journey of other children who have been an important part of my life. For one in particular, I feel the same combination of nostalgia and excitement I felt for my own children as he walks confidently forward out of childhood and into his new life in college. I am pulled back in my memory to toddler times even as he reaches out with both arms to embrace his adult future.

Chance is the unexpected actor on life's stage, and I am thankful for the serendipity that brought him into our world. Inevitably, knowing him changed each of us, as we have changed him, and it is with great pride that I look forward to seeing how his life unfolds from here on out.

I am realizing, as I watch from afar, that life never stands still. Change is not only inevitable, it is part of what makes life interesting. I would not want to be the person I was 25 years ago when I was my son's age, and he won't want to be that person 25 years from now, either. Each day on the path of life brings a new challenge or a new opportunity for growth, and if you rise up and embrace it, you will continue to evolve.

As I sit here today, seeing with new eyes our lives in constant transition, I wonder what life will look like 25 years from now. I am sort of glad I don't know, because for better or worse, I think life is best lived day to day. But one thing I am sure of - we all will have transformed in some way.

I am grateful for the unexpected deviations in my life journey. My path has been long and winding, and I am thankful for the companions that have shared the traveling with me. I am a better person for their companionship, and I hope they are better for having traveled with me.

I think the words of a favorite song, For Good from the musical, Wicked, sum it up for me.

Just look at you,
You can do all I couldn't do...
so now it's up to you,
For both of us.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives
For a reason
Bringing something we must learn.
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow,
If we let them,
And we help them in return.
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today,
Because I knew you....

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you,
I have been changed for good.