Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

Today I walked by your bedroom door and peeked in, out of habit I suppose. I saw your neatly made bed and your empty desk.  I saw the closet holding just a few remnants. The things you didn’t need for college.  

I didn’t mean to burst into tears. It just happened. I’m happy for you to be getting on with your life, pursuing your calling, and discovering where your gifts will be used in the world. This is what I raised you for.  

It’s what I prayed for when you were an infant in my arms. It’s why I spent years teaching you everything from how to tie your shoes to how to change a tire. It’s what I hoped for when I taught you to look adults in the eye and give a firm handshake.

RELATED: Let Us Raise Boys Who Have Respect Running Through Their Veins

It’s what we prepared you for when we let you try t-ball and tennis and soccer and piano, knowing things like teamwork, self-discipline, and endurance were skills you would use for the rest of your life.

I stepped inside and sat on the edge of your bed. 

I remembered the dandelions you picked for me and held behind your back when you were four years old.

I thought of the time I sat by your hospital bed when you broke your leg. I smiled when I thought of you reaching out to the kid who was sitting alone at the lunch table. I remembered the first day I tried to teach you to drive, and you almost crashed into that red truck on the corner. I revisited the long talks we had, late at night when the house was quiet

RELATED: I Just Left a Piece of My Heart in a College Dorm

Along with the memories came all the questions. Did I teach you enough? Spend enough time with you? Was I a good example? Do you have any idea how much I love you?

And what now? How often do I call? Text? Write?

How much is enough to let you know I care, but not too much to drive you crazy?

Once upon a time, it was just me and Dad. Then all of you came along and our lives were irreversibly changed for the better. Yes, it was crazy raising five under five. Back then, I probably couldn’t wait for this day to come. Then I blinked, and here it was

I’m trying to be gentle with myself. I tell myself I’m in a transition and things will settle into a new routine. I’ll be OK. Now I have the time to pursue the dreams I had put on hold during my years of being mommy, nurse, teacher, chef, taxi driver, coach, and friend. But somehow, they don’t feel as important now as when they were just out of reach.  

RELATED: College is An Adjustment For Moms and Dads, Too

Call me sometimes. Maybe just to check in and let me have the joy of seeing my phone light up with your name on it. And when I send too many texts, or talk for longer than you’d like, or ask too many questions, please be patient with me. I’m in unfamiliar territory.

“Let them go,” they say. “Give them space,” they say.

I’m trying. I really am. But it’s harder than you can imagine. 

My mom used to say, “Someday, when you’re a parent you’ll understand.”  It’s someday, Mom.

I walked by your bedroom door today. I’m glad I peeked inside.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Teresa Whiting

Teresa Whiting is a  national speaker, writer, furniture artist, entrepreneur, and ministry leader. But her favorite titles are “Mom” and “G-ma.” She and her husband Greg live in Northeast Ohio, where they are becoming reluctant empty-nesters. Connect with her at https://teresawhiting.com/ or on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/teresawhitingwrites/?ref=bookmarks

To the Friend Who Just Lost a Parent: It’s Going to Hurt and You’re Going to Grow

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Sad woman hands over face

Oh, the inevitable, as we age into our mid to late 30s and beyond. The natural series of life states that losing a parent will become more commonplace as we, ourselves, continue to age, and I am beginning to see it among my circle of friends. More and more parents passing, and oh, my heart. My whole heart aches and fills with pain for my friends, having experienced this myself three years ago.  It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt more than you could expect. The leader of your pack, the glue, the one you turn to when you...

Keep Reading

“He’s Gone.”

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Bride dancing with her father, color photo

That heart-wrenching moment when I received that phone call—the one that completely shattered life as I knew it. “He’s gone,” two words that brought me to my knees, screaming and crying. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t put into words what I was thinking or feeling, I was broken. Time slowed to a snail’s pace, it seemed like it took hours to arrive, and when we did, reality still didn’t sink in. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, we were supposed to have more time, way more time with him.  I’m too young to lose my dad, my kids...

Keep Reading

As An Adult, Navigating Your Parents’ Divorce Is Complicated

In: Grown Children, Marriage
Older couple sitting apart unhappy on couch

“Gray divorce” is a term that refers to divorce in couples over 50 years old. There are plenty of reasons why people decide to get divorced—in some cases, after decades of marriage. Many couples at this phase of their life are experiencing empty nests for the first time and are finding that once their kids have left the home, their relationship is not where they hoped it would be. No matter what the reasons may be, the reality is a lot of adults with families of their own are navigating their parents’ divorce. I am one of those adults facing...

Keep Reading

A Mother Spends Her Life Letting Go

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Mother holding up child silhouette

Checking in—it’s what mothers do, or what I do anyway. I stand nose to chin with Miles and Gabriel, my grown twin sons, to feel their life force wash over me. They radiate energy and testosterone and smell like shampoo and skin. I inspect their shirts for invisible crumbs, touch and tease their curly hair—a gift from their father—and breathe in their essence, no longer baby-sweet but still beloved. I hold their sleeves lightly between my fingers. I anchor myself there in their orbit. And I ask questions, again and again, long after they’ve stopped listening. The questions are innocuous,...

Keep Reading

Grieving the Death of an Estranged Family Member is Complicated

In: Grief, Grown Children
Woman looking out at water

This past weekend, I learned that my estranged grandmother died. It had been a few years since I had spoken to her, and while I knew this day would come, I never exactly knew how I’d feel when the day actually arrived. Honestly, the moment I heard the news, I felt a bit of shock and didn’t know how to feel in that moment. Was I allowed to feel sadness or pain given that I had chosen to remove this family from my life? I felt so overwhelmed, I ended up googling “how to grieve the death of an estranged...

Keep Reading

There’s a Little Less of You Here Each Day

In: Grief, Grown Children
Elderly man and younger woman's arms around his neck

I’m sitting here on the front porch, and I’m sobbing. I’m finally grieving. I’ve finally reached the place where my heart knows what my brain has known for years. I am now dreaming of the day we meet again in Heaven, Dad, and you look at me and I will see in your eyes that you know it’s me: your daughter. I won’t be “the woman who comes by every day to our house” as you described me to Mom the other day. And this sucks. This early onset Alzheimer’s has stolen a brilliant mind. It’s stolen my mother’s dear...

Keep Reading

Our College Visit Disaster: What You Should Learn from My Mistakes

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Mom and teen daughter selfie, color photo

With a song in my heart, I got in the car to drive my daughter to our first college visit.  We drove two hours to a school nestled in the mountains. It was a state school, not too big, not too small.  She knew plenty of alumni from her high school who attended there, and I was convinced it was going to be the perfect fit. We pulled up to the student center, and I jumped out of the car. I glanced around for her and realized she was still sitting in the car.  “Mom, I’m not getting out. I ...

Keep Reading

Everything I Know About Motherhood, I Learned from My Mom

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Mother and daughter walking down snowy path, color photo

I lay in a hospital bed, and the doctor placed my brand-new son into my arms. As I held him close and stared in wonder at this tiny new life, the gravity of being totally responsible for another person settled in with an enormous weight. I could hear my mom’s voice in my mind, “Support the head, hold him close, let him feel you breathe.” Words from my youth when she taught me how to comfort my crying baby cousin. The first lesson I had in taking care of a baby. When I brought my son home from the hospital,...

Keep Reading

I’ll Send You off with a Million Prayers

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Teen walking down sidewalk with suitcase, color photo

I think one of the hardest things about launching your big kids is wondering what baggage they will take with them. Did I give them enough for what comes next? Enough guidance? Enough wisdom Enough confidence and encouragement? Or will they end up carrying the weight of all of my mistakes? My exhaustion? My insecurities? My misplaced fears? What will they hold on to and what will they toss aside as they make room for new experiences, new people, new dreams? RELATED: My Mama Heart Breaks a Little Every Time You Go What lessons will they remember? What moments will...

Keep Reading

Dear Future Daughter-in-Law, I Hope We’ll Be Close

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Wedding preparation buttoning up dress

Dear future daughter-in-law, My son loves you enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. That’s a big deal. But I hope you and I can have a relationship too. While I think he’s pretty terrific, I want to know all about you and to have a relationship of our own. I know you are more than his significant other—our relationship may be because of him, but it can also be separate from him. Stop trying so hard. Just be yourself, the woman my son fell in love with. I don’t want you to try to...

Keep Reading