Late summer days, with its cool nights and warm days, are the best days of summer. There is just a touch of the season to come in the air. The children have returned to classes, and more than one parent has cried to say good-by as their child gets on a school bus, or goes off to college for the first time. It is a time of transition. A time we have to prepare for what is to come.
This is the last year for this porch garden. This family of plants has outgrown its area, the plants have no room to flourish. Some plants have grown over their neighbors, burying them from view. The matching garden on the other side of the porch, just a few feet away, has dwindled, with some plants completely disappearing. I tended the plants the same, but something was missing for the plants that failed to thrive. Best efforts don’t matter, they are still in sad shape. This fall, the plants from both gardens divided and placed into new beds, will have another season to grow and thrive. Plants placed with all care and knowledge available will thrive, and some may fail. I will try again with new varieties to replace the plant bed that did poorly.
Relationships, like plants, may thrive or not, given all the care you have. Some children climb on the school bus, or pack up for college, and never look back. Most children flourish in their new locations. Other children will move back home and take up as much space as possible in your life. A few children will flounder and you will not have enough to give. At a certain age the talk with your friends is less about the PTA and our kids sports, and more about when we get to see the children and grandchildren, because just being grown up, doesn’t make you any less our children. The saddest conversations is with parents who’s children have rejected them, even as they keep trying to reestablish connection.
These are the type of thoughts about families that inspired my last post I’ll Stick to You.
I’m your mom, and even if you don’t want me to, I will do whatever I can to keep the lines of connection open. Why? It’s what I do.