MOTHERING

     I always used to think that once my children were grown-up, that they would stop needing so much from me, so much love and patience and guidance, so much mothering. But as the stakes in life rise, so do the dramas and pitfalls and traps. I find my parental role more demanding now than it has ever been.
     For all of the adulthood and maturity and physical size, in some ways, my children are as baffled by life and people and the way things work as they were at age three. The challenges are bigger, and the cost of error and misunderstanding, but the perplexity is the same. Why? How? These are their questions still.
     And I am here, perplexed myself by certain things, but mother earth and grounding rod to them nonetheless, and carrier of lost dreams, and restorer of hope. I welcome them home with open arms and a heart full of love. I listen and comfort and send them back out into the world again with a backpack of courage and a gentle push.

When they are lost, I do not punish my children with threats and guilt. I love them and restore them and help them find their way home.