Mothers will always be mothers, and fathers will always be fathers. Even if our children are in their 40s, 50s and 60s, we still love them, care for them as much as possible, give them what we can and are concerned about their well-being. My middle-aged son is going through a terrible time, and it has brought up all kinds of mothering issues for me.
Perhaps it’s just a midlife crisis. He’s in his 40s and in the thick of family life, raising children, career and everything else that goes with these major things. His issues are work-related, some family difficulties and a nasty broken leg. These things are just normal things that happen in life, but happening all at once makes them more difficult.
It’s hard to know what to say, how to react, what will really help as a mother to an adult son when he is suffering. I try to listen, to not advise unless I am asked, to just be there however I can. I find it heartwarming that he does reach out to me, calls me on several occasions just to talk, so something must be working.
At one point, I reminded him of a time as a teen, the night before his college application was due, he had a meltdown. Life was just too much for him at that moment at 17. But he rallied, got himself together and got the application done (and ended up going to that college). He has always been able to regroup and get it together under pressure. Maybe recalling those instances was helpful.
I keep thinking, I wish it was me. We would do most anything for our kids. It’s so difficult to watch them go through what life holds, even though everyone must go through these traumas in order to grow, learn and come out on the other side a better person. Would taking his place rob him of these profound and perhaps life-altering experiences?
A friend has recently gone through a far worse time with her son of 28. He was burned in an explosion and he was in a coma for five weeks. What helped her was falling back on three tenets she learned at a retreat years ago: be comfortable with not-knowing what’s going to happen, bear witness (just be there and listen) and partake in compassionate action (stay in the here and now and do whatever is necessary). She also firmly believed that he would be OK, even if the result was fatal.
Her self-care included some great croissants, a very close communication with his girlfriend and some shots of whiskey, as did being the receiver of a meta circle of friends (being sent loving and healing energy) who kept her connected to her community here. Whatever it takes ...
One bright thing in my situation is the feeling that I am really being a mother again, on some level. I really feel all my mothering emotions – the deep sadness for his pain and suffering, the compassion, and the need to care for him as much as I can, even though he lives in California. I also feel the confidence of him coming through these issues just fine, and the recognition that we all go through these dark times to really grow.
And, his wife has been incredibly supportive and helpful. At some point in our mothering, we hand the basic care over to the partners our kids choose. She’s the one who has really been his ally.
He keeps me posted on his processes. Therefore, I am able to search myself for encouraging things to say, send him things that could help and cheer him on when he has a step forward. What a gift it is to be a mother, even through harder times. But, it’s a lot easier to change diapers and clean up spilled milk!
And remember this from Kahlil Gibran’s poem “The Prophet”:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
Martha McClellan has lived in Durango since 1993 and has been an educator, consultant and writer. Reach her at mmm@bresnan.net.
