My fifteen year old daughter Lillian is on her first big trip, attending a language immersion and service adventure in Mexico. We’ve only been apart this long once before, when I was in Germany for a book tour but she was home with her Dad and I was away; a completely different experience for me.
I know this is simply another pang in the blossoming of my baby into the big good world and
Who knew it would hurt so much?
This morning the phone rang and I heard her sweet voice saying, “Mommy?” and then sobs.
Lilly sobbing a thousand miles away. Me standing at my kitchen counter, muscles tensed, as if I could somehow get to her, somehow leap to her side.
For a few seconds, I actually thought I could. Somehow. Get there.
Turns out she’s sick, the classic fever and stomach upset. One of her teachers got on the phone to explain she isn’t very ill, she has been to the doctor for antibiotics, and she’s in good spirits.
Lilly got back on and said, in this tiny voice, “I just didn’t know I missed you so much.”
Oh sweetie.
Didn’t I write just yesterday about dropping my story and leaning into the present moment, without anything between me and life?
What was I thinking?
But I did it.
I took deep breaths and comforted her while part of me kept opening to the anguish and the strange joy of loving someone so much. The terrible pain we have all felt when someone you would die for is ill and there is nothing you can do.
Letting that crack me open.
Breathe, Jen, breathe.
What is love but a constant opening and letting go? Standing on the rushing waterfall edge of life, wanting to hold on to that water, wanting to control that flow, all the while knowing it is going to keep rushing by, and why not let it?
At The Comfort Cafe
One of our newer members, Crowsfoxes, posted this wonderful tidbit that I went back to read after Lilly’s call (after a good cry and a hug from Bob):
I found a very interesting article written by T. Thorn Coyle, a priestess of the Feri tradition. She writes about the line from the Koran “Which of God’s favors will I refuse today?”
I’ve thought about this quote so often since Crowsfoxes shared it. It’s helped me notice how often (as in a hundred times a day? An hour?) I turn away or dismiss the beneficence offered me by life. After Lilly’s call, I thought, “God’s favor to me is feeling this much love. Focus on that, how totally completely utterly graced am I to be this kid’s mom and feel this.”
And if I need chocolate later, to put a little ground under my being, so be it.
What favor will you open to today? What about right now?
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12 responses so far ↓
1 Jess Jul 14, 2009
Wow. This was *exactly* what I was just needing in my own moment Jen. Thank you so much for sharing! Hugs!
2 Hiro Boga Jul 14, 2009
Jen, hugs and love for your heart, and for Lilly. May the bond between you remain the ground beneath your feet.
When my youngest son left home, I was bereft in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Our children connect us to the world, and the gift of that connection deepens once they move into their own lives.
Today, I’ll open to the gift of being present with whatever crosses my path.
Love, Hiro
3 cindy Jul 15, 2009
HI jen! thank you for posting this and sharing the deep pangs of your heart and how well you are treating yourself in the midst of it. big hugs cindy
4 char Jul 15, 2009
Every time you write an article Jen, I think it can’t get any better than THIS current piece of wisdom that you share. It’s like discovering (re-discovering) beautiful pieces of jewelry that I’d forgotten about that are priceless and treasured.
Thank you for this wisdom about loving missing Lilly. There is NOTHING like loving a child the way you (and many mothers like you) do – it’s a priceless thing for both you and Lilly.
And then to open to God’s favor of noticing that love and it’s fluid beauty – that’s just breath-taking to me.
God’s favor for me is receiving the random acts of kindness that are all around me – from others posts on blogs and forums, to articles like yours, to some practical help with a daily things breaking in my home from unexpected sources.
Thank you so much Jen.
5 Lynne Tolk Jul 15, 2009
Wow, Jen, this brings back so many memories! Taking my daughter off to college, then the 8 hour drive home, alone. My son’s college trip to Australia. The honor of assisting my daugher at the birth of her son. So much pain and fear and love impossible to separate!
God’s favor for me now is helping my dad face his cancer. We are both finding new depths of love.
Your words are a gift, helping me to focus on what matters.
Lynne
6 Julie B Jul 15, 2009
Ah , Jen. That bitter-sweet burning of love. My experience of growing up was total enmeshment with my mother, then feeling her pain (and my guilt) during the years that it was time for me to stretch my apron strings. I went to Europe for a year when I was 21 as there was no way to grow up away from her in the same city. (This is not criticism of my mother, rather observation – I know she did things the best way she knew how) God’s favour to me is two great gifts which I embrace now at 47 ~ an awareness and appreciation of how much she (now 70) loves me and ~ the choice for a different way of approaching my son’s growing up. He is 18 this year and my heart swells with pride and love as he grows into his manhood. He may soon move to a new town, 1000 miles from where we live and yes I will miss him (tho we will IM, as we do now from his bedroom to my home office – either end of the house!) At the same time I feel Enormous Excitement to watch him spread his wings and take his first steps into the world! Thanks for the opportunity to reflect on this Jen,
Much love,
Julie (Australia)
7 Jennifer Jul 15, 2009
Ah thanks for all the love gals.
I talked to Lilly today and she’s doing better and saw pictures of her dancing.
She told me this morning “I only miss you when I talk to you” – sweet girl.
She comes home Monday and I’m on the road the rest of the week so it will fly by.
8 Shawnnita Jul 18, 2009
I’m new here. I’m trying new positive things in my life.
I’m using this favor to see that there are others out there that want to or *are* getting it.
Thanks for this post.
9 Sally Jul 18, 2009
Wow, those questions are great; helping me re-frame my current experience. My daughter, my only child, brilliant, beautiful, age 24, fell downstairs last week and suffered a traumatic brain injury. I had the same reaction as you when I got that phone call – if I could have dissolved into the phone lines and flowed like light from WI to NY, I would have. It took me 24 hrs to get to her side. I’m back home now (I’m also caring for my own mom who has dementia), she’s in a rehab center, and doing well – we expect a full recovery thank God…but you reminded me to focus on the incredible blessing of being her Mom, no matter what, even if it means I can’t be by her side right now. I am definitely going to start looking for God’s favors…every day. Thank you!
10 Julie B Jul 19, 2009
{Hugs to you Sally, this is not the easiest of paths we have chosen, as the mother. May your girl make a full and speedy recovery. May you find relief in pondering her sweet future when she is well (and the adventures you two will have)…}
11 Julie B Jul 19, 2009
London, 1983. The foyer of the Plaza Hotel, Bayswater. The queue to the public telephone in the Very Public Lobby, which then led to the Ladies’ bathroom – a trail of soggy, red-eyed girls (Aussies, Kiwis, Canadians, American, Brits…) who’d been talking to their folks up to 12000 miles away. (No such trail to the men’s room
, bless them). And then the next adventure… The world was our oyster, our parents safely ensconced at home. (You mean, they had a life? That didn’t involve Me?) I Loved them and Missed them and Stayed and Spread my wings and Grew. When my mother’s tears stopped some months later (I travelled for a year) and she could once again walk into my room without dissolving, she found her own wings, which had been wrapped around me for 21 years, and began to step into the world as herself (guitar lessons, etc.) My favour from God has been to learn from my mother’s misery and to embrace the spreading of my son’s 18-year old wings as they take him into the world (and out of mine). May he have many adventures without me (I’d love to see the pics, Nick 
)
12 Shayla Jul 20, 2009
I just found your website after noticing you on maestroconferences. I too have teenaged daughters. The physical pangs I feel when I think about them, interact with them, wish for more and am glad to be rid of them (for a day or for a week) are the same ones I felt when they were toddlers. This being a mom stuff is really quite expanding. My vessel stretches with each intense emotion. I am able to feel more and more and then, drain it all away like aromatic bath water soothing but no longer serving. I think I am going to enjoy your newsletter. Thank you for today’s blog.