Brady woke up and said, "Momma, we need to go to Nina and Papa's for breakfast before they leave." I grabbed him and held him tight knowing his little heart was hurting and his mind was going a million miles. Like his momma's.
"Why can't we move to Texas with them?" he asked.
"Your daddy lives here, honey. We can't move away from him."
Silence.
"How much am I going to see Nina and Papa?"
"Hopefully once every two months." I reply.
Tears.
I wasn't prepared for their sadness. I wasn't even ready for my own. Theirs is far worse.
The beauty of having a son who is emotionally intelligent is sometimes hard to absorb. I love this about him, but man is it ripe. Brady doesn't have your typical, childish temper tantrums. He has the cold reality of life moments of overwhelming feelings. He is able to express how he feels better than I at times. And he is no longer able to be placated with empty words or promises. He is too aware of reality for this. It is challenging for this momma to speak truth when I just want to soothe him with false hope.
Most of the time all I'm able to do is hold him. Tightly.
I'm not sure which end I'd rather be on...the one in which my emotions spill out without understanding or they sit inside and affect everything else because I am fully aware of the reason for my sadness. And I know I'll just have to work with it because it's not going away.
I guess they both have a place.
What has happened since fully understanding that our lives will radically change soon is that we are closer than we have been to my parents. If that is even possible. What used to be mundane moments are now too precious to waste on robotic behavior.
It's also affected my prone to play. Instead of spending time on unproductive tasks, I find that I am more focused on what has to be done. I actually return phone calls the same day lately. Shoot, sometimes I get a wild hair and actually ANSWER the phone. My friend AKA financial pimp Philip can testify to how poorly I return phone calls. He knows when he calls it will be at least a week until he gets ahold of me. And that is the hopeful time table. It's typically a month. Hi, my name is Rebekah and I am an I Don't Return Phone Calls Addict.
But lately, the adulting is taking over and homegirl is acting all grown up. I think perhaps my parents have been a security blanket for me. They are there, always in the background ready and available when I have issues. This mental removal of them is making my responsible brain kick in. I don't have the patriarch/matriarch of my family to fall back on in my brain anymore. I'm the matriarch. With or without a husband.
Who knew single women could be matriarchs?
I admit to feeling pathetic that I'm a grown woman with a fear of living in a city without her parents. The thought of this when I was in my 20s would have been ridiculous. I never would have believed that I would have a hard time living away from them. In fact, the more miles between us the better. But that 20 year old wasn't a momma. Her concerns were more about where she was going on a Friday night and what shoes to wear. Or what mascara to buy. (OK, maybe I am still concerned about these things. Is L'Oreal as good as expensive mascara?? After 25 years of donning makeup I still don't know the answer to this mystical question).
Matriarchal duties require a woman with her head firmly on her shoulders. She has food in the fridge always and bandaids. She remembers to stop and get donuts for the class. She spends an hour after the kids go to bed preparing herself and her kids for the next day. She remembers to order her Plexus so she and her kids don't run out. (I have recently failed at this and we are all a little unhappy.) She wakes up before everyone and mentally prepares for her day. She finishes her errands before she takes a day off.
She is a badass.
I have done most of these things for years. But I didn't fully own it. It was like I was playing house. I was pretending to be a matriarch. It wasn't deeply rooted in my persona. I actually resented the responsibilities, I am ashamed to report.
Our brains are simply baffling. Now that I fully believe that I am the matriarch, my choices are reflecting such belief. My brain has alerted me to the dangers of not fully owning this responsibility and I am adjusting my behavior accordingly. I see less and less of people who have been my playmates. I am spending more time with those who understand fully the difficulty and complexity of being a mom. Single or not. I see myself more as a single MOM than a single WOMAN these days.
I'll be visiting my therapist again to get me through this transition to matriarch.
So while Graham throws his temper tantrums and Brady ponders the sadness, I'll be in the kitchen baking some gluten-free/sugar-free cookies.
I think to complete the transformation, I will buy myself an apron.
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