My girls...how easily those words fall from my lips. Not having them a part of my life these past months, as difficult to express the loss of my marriage, simply no words to describe this loss. Of such proportion, at times, surreal, feelings indescribable. Heartbreaking – literally, it is heartbreaking – a physical force upon my body, unlike anything else. This heaviness, loss, there is no cure for I must carry on.
It wasn’t always so.
The cool mom, I was. So open, loving, welcoming to her girls, their friends; shopping, baking, Disney channeling, reading, movie watching, driving, laughing. So. Much. Laughter.
I have never seen my daughters as an extension of myself. They are their own entities, individuals, independent thinkers. Never one to hold on to the days of umbrella strollers, playgroups, baking cupcakes or elementary science projects, I relished these moments, yet excited with anticipation, the possibilities in abundance each year they grew.
Now they are grown, still evolving as am I. When reunited, they will see a more authentic mother and woman; honest, direct, willing to be herself, no pretenses. Showing our children we are human beings must be one of the hardest things about parenting. I have made mistakes with my kiddos. Bad decisions make for rough waters in life of a family. I am a living example of this. I am learning my frailties, admittance finally coming to fruition, a mother on a road to self-actualization.
It’s easy to inflict self-pity on one’s self. Been there many times and I am done – feeling this way serves no purpose. And what purpose is there now? Without a relationship with either of my daughters, what is to become of us in the future? They are living their lives, moving forward, navigating their life without a mom. Why did things end this way, even if temporary, as in a year? Two, three years? How does one replace the loss of a relationship once so prevalent? When does a woman decide to live a life on her own terms despite the risk of losing her children? Does it mean I love my girls any less than when married to their father?
To say I miss them is to say I miss oxygen. For not extensions of who I am, they are indeed, a part of my soul, they teach me without ever knowing their impact on my life. This estrangement, days I am not sure what to do, where to turn. Time lingers and I want nothing more than a quick text, brief email, small reminders I am thought of. Not self-pity, only desire. A desire to love and be loved by the two most significant people in my life. Many say I will always be their mom. I hear the words, I do not feel it. I do not feel like a mom – their mom. In time the feeling will return; greater, more significant. For now, I love them just as I always have, significant in proportion.