N is for...

Changes, Changes. So many changes. 

It’s been six months since I said goodbye to Mom.

And then I said goodbye to their house. 

Mourning continues, but even that has changed. Now it looks and feels different.

More changes…our younger son has morphed into a grown-ass man. 

Our older son decided to stay in Chicago instead of coming home this summer.

I mourn the loss of their childhoods. 

Mike is working on four different projects. Always changes there.

And as we soak up the last of summer, we got our first glimpse of the big year ahead for our younger son when he shared a video montage a friend made for him, as he celebrates entering his senior year of high school baseball. Like a punch in the gut, I’m reminded that this time next year, he’ll be off to college. 

Oh. My. Gosh. Too much change.

But then, a few weeks ago, deep in the overwhelm, I noticed something. A sense. A feeling. What is that?  A glimmer of light?  I see it creeping through, trying to make its way to me. Yes, it’s an opening!

One day, out of nowhere, instead of deep mourning, I began to feel a shift as I realized that the responsibilities, the agreement, I made to care for my Dad and Mom was actually, forever completed. It’s as if something lifted right off of me. And suddenly there was space. Where there had been binding, I am now free.  

Ahhhhh. I’m breathing easier and deeper.

And in this opening, I found my faith again. And there is my good friend, trust! And surrender! Oh, how I’ve missed you.

I find myself experiencing tremendous gratitude for my heart beat, my lungs expanding, my body functioning so well, the blue sky, the birds singing, prosperity and abundance, balance and alignment, connection, feeling safe, silly, happy and loving. 

The shift also shows up in physical form, as the weight of those responsibilities is lifted and I release over twenty-five pounds (without ozempic!). I’m starting to feel like my old self again. 

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not frolicking through a field of flowers. Some of the changes are still challenging. Like the pain I feel as our younger son continues to separate and step further into his own life, becoming his own person. Yeah, letting go, that’s a doozy. It would be so much easier if he’d just listen to me and do as I say,  (Said every Mom in all of time.) and continue to be my little baby. 

But I’m getting better about catching myself. I see how I’m trying to control everything, to hold on tight. So I give myself a little talking to. I remind myself that our son makes his own choices, and they’re the exact ones he has to make in order to fulfill his own spiritual curriculum. I can love on him and provide him with all that he needs to be successful, but then I have to let go and let him find his way. 

I take a step back and an idea whispers through me, “Wow, I’m really not responsible for anyone’s experience but my own.” And as I take an even deeper breath, allowing that to settle in my body, my old friend, freedom, pops up again. Open and vast. Full of opportunities and possibilities. 

And our boys- they’re turning into these amazing, joyful, bright, compassionate grown-ups. They’re living their very best lives, both seemingly so happy! Seeing them thrive is the most beautiful reminder that my choice to stay home with them was worth every moment and that letting go is giving them the space to become exactly who they’re meant to be. What could be better?

Well, I can tell you what would be better. Being offered a job casting a commercial. Me! After all these years! And because this one doesn’t have to move as quickly as most, I can take my time and indulge in the joy that I experience as a career woman. And I’m having so much fun, being pushed outside my comfort zone a little, but definitely enjoying it. And I’m making money again. And it all feels so good. I mean, holy moly- what a gift! 

All of this to say, I’m intensely grateful. 

It feels a little strange to share my happiness during this tumultuous time in the history of the world. I’m not oblivious to the suffering around me, but I’m choosing to hold in my loving joy and share it with others. I figure that's the way I contribute to the healing.

So the letter N stands for Now—because while the past may tug at me with memories of Dad and Mom, and the future can pull me toward worry about our boys or uncertainty, it’s in these present moments, when I’m fully in the Now, that I realize: life is actually very, very good.

And, sure, I’m solidly in midlife. But you know what? I’m just getting started.

In loving,

Sarah