Letting Go

‘Tis the season of transitions –high school and college graduations, weddings at every turn and I am reminded of what that means. As a parent it means pride and joy melded with perhaps one of the hardest things I have faced over the years  Those big transitions serve as reminders that my kids are not only growing up and away, but also that they need me to let them go. A reminder I still need even when they are in their 30’s!  Even though I was acutely aware of what was coming, when the cap and gown or wedding attire was at last adorned, they serve as visible signs that life as I have known it will not be the same.  While I might have prepared and wanted the day to come it sometimes feels like being jolted with a new reality of the child I raised from birth moving on—often physically away from home.  It is ironic. We raise our children to be strong and independent-- to grow and explore the world and yet when they do, it feels like loss. Smiles of pride and satisfaction mingle with tears of loss and yes, tears of joy. You would think after all these years, it would be easy. 

When our oldest, Justin, left home after graduating from high school I was a bundle of energy held together by a thread. I simply could not imagine life in our house without him bounding in with some outrageous comment or getting that exuberant daily hug. The summer before he left our whole family was on edge until one day the four of us were in a full blown battle over hiking boots—don’t even ask because I couldn’t tell you what it was about. But suddenly in the midst of all the yelling,  clarity dawned and I interjected loudly, “This is not about hiking boots. Justin is leaving in a week.” Instantly the argument lost all steam. It was not about the hiking boots.

Two years later when Melanie left for school in Colorado College, again I was a mess imagining the unbearable thought of her smile leaving the house for months on end.  For weeks I told a therapist I was seeing how distraught I felt; how even with a husband and job I loved, I was sure that my life would be empty. After listening, as only a therapist can, session after session as I tried to sort though my mixed feelings she told me that several years before, when her last daughter graduated from college, she announced to her husband on the way home from the graduation ceremonies that she never needed to cook again. What was the point with such an empty house? It was perhaps one of the most reassuring things anyone said to me during that time. Here was the most put together person I knew saying that at least for a while she thought her life was over. And yet, she survived even thrived. Hearing her belief that her mother/daughter relationship was even better now, gave me such courage and hope. And yes, she was still cooking. Of course she proved to be right about it all. 

When Justin got married nine years ago today,  (Happy Anniversary!!) they were living close by and we had time to get to know Farracy. Spending time together, I began to imagine just how enriching it might be to add another daughter to the family. How prescient that was! Not only has she made my son happy, she has been such a blessing and joy in my life and a sister Melanie never had. Not to mention she brings extraordinary boys into the world. Being part of their growing family is pure blessing. 

Much because of our experience adding a daughter-in-law, I was looking forward to adding a son-in-law in Ben. So I was surprised in the months leading up to Melanie and Ben’s wedding, when I found myself uneasy—not about Ben-- but about the fact that Melanie would no longer be putting Chris and me down as next of kin on all the forms she would fill out for the rest of her life. For the first time in 31 years, we would not be the first ones notified if she was in trouble, got sick, or had a complication when being treated for an illness. I love Ben believing that he is the person meant to be Melanie’s husband and partner, but after seven years with her living with cancer, I have become used to watching over Melanie as she has navigated that part of her life. Even though, she has been the one to schedule all her appointments and manage her medical life, when it comes to cancer, I have stayed vigilant, and I doubt that will change since I can’t help myself. But what will change is that now she and Ben are dealing with this together; Chris and I will be there for them when they need us, but we will back up. That is right and as it should be, but it will take some getting used to.

But then again, maybe it is all part of that same letting go thing that began when I first dropped her off at nursery school. My illusions of control and my ability to protect my children have always been just that –illusions—not reality.  Still, it takes some faith and maybe a bit of poetry to move ahead. This from Mary Oliver.

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.

From 'In Blackwater Woods’

So once again, I will try letting go. But like I said—I'll always be a mom. Always.

Home

This picture is from the last dance at Melanie and Ben’s wedding a few weeks ago. I just love it because I know exactly what they are singing –it is the last verse of the song they picked to end the evening. It’s called  ‘Home’. Here are the words to the last verse:

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma & Pa

Not the way that I do love you

Holy moly, me, oh my, you’re the apple of my eye

Girl, I’ve never loved one like you

Man, oh man, you’re my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness

There ain’t nothin’ that I need

Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ

There ain’t nothin’ please me more than you

Chorus:

Ahh, Home

Let me come Home

Home is wherever I’m with you

~Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

The first time I had ever heard it was at the wedding and when it came on, Melanie and Ben just started belting it out. Quickly their friends joined in until the chorus was picked up by the entire dance floor.  Melanie and Ben sang—sang their hearts out to each and as I sang along, tears stung my eyes.

It wasn’t until I got back to Boston and saw that picture for the first time and the catchy tune popped in my head that I realized what the tears were all about. Melanie had indeed found a home. It is a home with Ben as her companion and love, and it is a home within herself. It was a home that took a long time to find.

One of the things that happens when a young adult –or perhaps anyone—gets cancer is that at least for a while, a bit of self is lost. It is hard to feel at home in their body or the world. In the early years, when Melanie was first diagnosed with cancer she talked often about losing her identity.  Feeling betrayed by her body, forced to move home, and then having to come to grips with physical limitations—especially in those first couple of years when her metabolism was totally out of whack—made her question not only who she was but what the future might hold. Living each day was wrought with questions. What kind of work might she have the energy to do? Would her stamina ever come back or would this depleted energy be her new “normal” for the rest of her life. How much will this cancer define me? What guy would ever want to fall for “cancer girl?” (Her words not mine.)

From the day she received her diagnosis, Chris and I reassured her that her home could be with us for as long as she needed even while knowing that our adventurous daughter would quickly find life in the city confining and yes, soul crushing. Her life thrived on mountains, and forests, and tents, and backpacks. In the wilderness, she felt alive, connected to herself and at home. But she also needed a place to put down roots. And like most of us, she wanted a companion to share those things with her. Going solo through life is never easy. 

Navigating what it means to live with cancer is a lifetime journey and for Melanie it has been one of growth and change, frustration and disappointment, stretching to find new possibilities and self-understanding. It has taken tenacity and guts. As her mom, I have tried to be present to that journey, and that has not always been easy. During the wedding weekend in May, though, her confidence and utter joy and inner strength were almost palpable.

When it came time to bless Melanie and Ben at the wedding, I told those gathered a story from when she was little. Almost every evening when our kids were young, we took walks-- around the block, to the park and later short hikes.  Of course, Melanie being the youngest, would tucker out first and with hands stretched up implore,  “Carry me. Carry me.” Until we thought she really was “done” our answer was always the same. “We’re on a walk not a carry.”   But before long not only did she no longer ask to be picked up, she was running far ahead—skiing faster down mountains than any of the rest of the family, taking trips into the wilderness, spending summers in the mountains or in South America, literally traveling around the world for a semester.

(These next words did not occur to me to tell that day, because Melanie and Ben’s wedding was not about cancer or overcoming anything.)  But it was no wonder that the confinement of cancer treatment would rob her of her sense of who she was. For some years, home in the world of exploration did not seem to be an option and at times she doubted if it ever would be again. Big questions of self had to be tested out and worked through.

Then one day, Melanie met a man who loved the outdoors and exploring the way she did. It was truly a match made in heaven-- and earth—and she was strong and confident enough to embrace that life again. At the same time, Ben had traveled his own journey that also included mountains and forests, boats and water and living abroad—a journey I am slowly learning about as I get to know him better.  It seems, and Melanie and Ben believe, they met at just the right moment in both their lives.

On May 28, Ben and Melanie, with voices strong and clear spoke vows to each other --words they wrote together. And their families and friends affirmed those vows also in words, adding applause and bubbles of blessing.  But it wasn’t until late in the evening that they both let loose singing to the universe, “Ahhh home. Let me come home. Home is whenever I’m with you. ” The song ended and ….

Melanie and Ben

Welcome Home

Here's the song if you want something to hum along to today!

No matter the age--it just isn't easy

I'm talking about cancer treatment. No matter your age or treatment regime, it is never easy. Farracy, my daughter-in-law, aka Best daughter-in-law in the World is in Houston right now visiting her mom who is undergoing the last week of radiation treatment, after three months of aggressive chemo and radiation at the same time. She only has seven more radiation treatments (maybe six before the day is out) but she's at the point that seven treatments feels like way too many.
The good new for her is that she is surrounded by fabulous doctors and a remarkable support network including not only Farr and Justin, but also her son and daughter-in-law and grandchildren who live near by not to mention a host of friends ready, willing, and able to do the small and large things that are so important when you feel as rotten as she does. She also has a end date for these treatments and her doctor has given her the thumbs up to say that her tumor has shrunk significantly and the treatments are working.
Still... it is hard for her and for those who love her. She too, is Always a Mom and we have talked about how difficult it is to watch kids--even adult kids) cope with treatment for their parents. This is to say it goes both ways. Mothers (and Dads) and their kids of any age work hard to figure out how to help, stay positive and be there when cancer is in the mix. Farr and her brother, Chad, and their families have done all that for Nancy as have lots of others.
So mom, Nancy, hang in there. Know how many folks are cheering you on. Remember how strong and good your children are (not to mention fabulous parents themselves)--just the way you and Skip raised them.
So today I am just sending out love to another mom, Nancy, and asking you to say a prayer for her--or send positive thoughts her way.
Blessings.

Bruce Feller gets it right

So reading this yesterday, just reminded me --again-- of how good people--even good friends can sometimes blunder when dealing with someone who has cancer. I know I have said some of the very same unhelpful statements myself,  but after having Melanie at home when first diagnosed and even years into her cancer journey, I have learned a little bit about what helps and what doesn't.
Bruce Feller wrote this column, 'You Look Great and other Lies' yesterday in the Sunday, New York Times and it is worth at read.


 http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/fashion/what-to-say-to-someone-whos-sick-this-life.html

It's all about blessing...

     I have spent the last two days trying to write about Melanie and Ben’s wedding weekend.  After 1300 words (far too many in blogland) and not even getting to the ceremony—it suddenly hit me that I was trying to graphically recount what occurred. I wanted a reader to "see" what it was like to be there—an impossible task. Then it hit me, maybe it is more important to share what the weekend was all about—something closer to my heart.

     While the details were lovely—the venue on the water overlooking the water in Sebasco Harbor, Maine and the flowers, outside and in--those details were more a backdrop for what began to emerge. It seemed there was bit of magic in the air (and I am sure many mom's feel this way) but some of that was because of what did not happen.

    The weekend was not a staged production. While much careful planning and work went into gathering 165 people together, Melanie and Ben (along with their four parents) wanted most to focus on assuring that those who made the huge effort to come would feel welcomed, comfortable, have fun, and hopefully make new connections.

    As it turned out, the weekend was not about the weather—which it could have been given the forecast leading up to it. The predicted Nor’easter not only did not materialize, those who came, bemoaned the fact that they did not bring shorts. Brilliant sunshine for two days and a cloudy wedding day made for perfect weather to congregate outside, enjoying the late spring blooms and taking pictures--hundreds of pictures.

    The weekend was not about perfection. So what if the ring bearer—Jackson—decided not to walk down the aisle preferring to hold Dad’s hand up front? Not a problem. The cries of babies and shout outs asking Jackson if he wanted to play as the wedding party came down the aisle?  Perfect! A bit of fog and chill in the air as the service ended? All the better for pictures.

     And the weekend was not about cancer—or overcoming cancer—in fact, I did not hear the word mentioned all weekend. On Thursday, I took off my Livestrong bracelet, as did Melanie. Not a person there needed a reminder to Live Strong. That was what the weekend celebrated—living strong, and fully and well.

So what was it about?

     It was certainly about family—four generations on every side of Hodgman’s, Fields, Richmond/Foote and Odenwald’s--the youngest only days old and some elders in their 90’s. Uncles, aunts, cousins at every turn graced the celebrations with joy. (The Hodgman/Field clan having  remarkable numbers of them! I am still trying to get Don and Marfy’s brothers and sisters straight. ) With immediate family staying in the same building, Ben’s parents, brother, Roy and his fiance passed our grands around as if they were their own. Justin, Farracy, Jackson, and Cooper played their way through the weekend with cousins and great grandparents they seldom see, and every time Jackson called his Uncle Ben Ben, I smiled knowing that once again, the clan was growing, welcoming more love into the world.

     This weekend was certainly about friendship--friendship going back to their childhood. Melanie and Ben's friends, who had played together from toddlerhood, came to raise toasts—now perfectly legal. Family friends who had vacationed together, worked together, gone through hard times as well as good came. Those who had followed Melanie and Ben’s wandering ways from a distance came to meet the person who made their friend’s heart sing. And there were friends recently made in Seattle who traveled to celebrate together.

     The weekend was about being present as the days unfolded with Melanie and Ben setting the tone: greeting each person arriving and departing, making introductions and meeting folks for the first time who at the end of the weekend were going to be part of their new family. Throughout the weekend I paid attention as Melanie and Ben took the time to be present to each other--often sneaking off for just a couple of moments to touch base or send a note on their wedding day.

      Surprises were also in the cards for Ben and Melanie—two engraved carabineers carrying the rings down the aisle on Jackson’s belt loops; a cloud of bubbles greeting the newly pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Hodgman; fireworks at midnight outside the wedding suite over the water, (yes sir officer, that won’t happen again);  not to mention a flash mob dance lead by Don, Marfy, Chris and yours truly. (The look on Ben and Mel’s face when the floor filled with dancers doing synchronized dance steps--priceless!)

      As folks gathered there was a growing willingness to fully enter into the fun. While perhaps it was not everyone’s first choice to be part of a scavenger hunt on the wedding morning, folks showed up.  As teams consisting of  every possible combination of aunts, uncles, cousins, cousins and more cousins, childhood and adult friends raced around the property; pyramids of Outward Bounders formed; uncles and aunts were hunted down to sign autographs; poems to the bride and groom were composed; and a community was formed. (The prize of the huge martini glass filled with M&M's was hotly contested!) Then there those intrepid Outward Bound folks (and one of my cousins) who followed the bride and groom as they jumped into 46 degree water the morning after the wedding. A baptism for the new couple.

     The weekend was about living close to the earth. Surrounded by water, trees, and sky, folks played outdoors—relishing the sun, kayaking, walking on the beach, playing bocce (who ever heard of power bocce?) and shuffleboard, creating pick-up whiffle ball and frisbee games. And party rooms reflecting the outside world-- scented with lilacs, peonies and hyacinths with fiddlehead ferns and birch logs peeking out. Tables named for the mountains loved by the new Hodgman’s with topographical maps as backdrop. Food was local and organic.

      And of course, the weekend was about Love. The mutual love of family and friends for Melanie and Ben. The love passed down from generation to generation. The love of new life and the love of God’s blessing shining though. The love of a new home that Melanie and Ben have found in each other.

     Finally, perhaps in the entire weekend was about blessing—blessing of Ben and Melanie as husband and wife witnessed by their family and friends. The formal part of that came in the wedding ceremony, but blessings were showering on them and us all weekend.  While Melanie and Ben’s friend, and our family friend for years, Bill Harper, officiated at the service, they asked me to do the final blessing. As much as I wanted to do it, I had warned Melanie and Ben I was not sure I could without breaking down.  (At the same time, reminding them that any tears were all about joy so deep that my heart was overflowing.) That morning practicing the short story I would tell before beginning the blessing, I sobbed. ( I mean really the boohoo --can't catch your breath sobbed.) I practiced again and I cried--but less.  By the fifth or sixth try I was just barely holding back tears, and thought I could do it. Then when Melanie appeared from behind the tree walking on Chris’ arm so beautiful and confident with the biggest Melanie smile ever, and when I saw Ben’s face beckoning her to his side, I knew I would be ok. So bless them I did with these words ending our collective prayer for them:

Now, O God, you have shown us that in giving away our lives in love we discover the unity of all creation.  Send therefore your blessing on these your children, created, loved and known by you from the beginning of time.  Give them grace that they may love and honor each other in faithfulness and patience and wisdom; and let their life and home be a haven of blessing and peace for all.  Amen.

That was what this weekend was all about.  

Amen and amen…

P.S. And if you want to see the blog post from an "outsider" and a few visuals by our fabulous photographer Brian Wedge, just follow this link. Turns out he is also a former Outward Bound instructor (among many things) and he and his wife give 1% of their proceeds to cancer research in honor of his sister, Lea who is a leukemia survivor.

http://www.brianwedge.com/blog/2011/06/03/melanie-ben-sebasco-harbor-resort-wedding-maine/

 

Always a Mom: I promise I will write next week!

Always a Mom: I promise I will write next week!: "But for now--just know that it was a perfect weekend. The Family together and the smiles never stopped! Blessings Abound!"

I promise I will write next week!

But for now--just know that it was a perfect weekend. 

The Family together and the smiles never stopped!

Blessings Abound!