The Lesson.

July 5th, 2011

He’s waiting for me in the car.
The engine’s running.
Mirrors adjusted, seat pushed back.
It’s his turn.

I’m his passenger
His teacher, guide,
His mother and,
control freak.

This will be interesting
We all know that’s the wrong word.
It will do for now.

I breathe heavily as he reverses
into the busy street.
We drive 10 metres,
Now I am no longer breathing at all.

He’s now the driver, and I the passenger.
We’re speeding along
this road not yet navigated.
One we must take. Forward.

But truly he’s careful. And calm.
I am not.
Too fast, too sharp, too windy,
too this too

It’s new for us both,
The driving, the fear,
The letting go
of my control, of him.

We make it home each time alive.
Yet I’m a little more aware
that these moments together
are most certainly numbered.

He’s improved,
And I’m getting better too.
I’m not holding on as tight
To my seat. Or the boy.

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  1. Amelia says:

    awesome writing 🙂

  2. Meg says:

    Thanks amelia.

  3. mia says:

    this is so sweet

  4. Frances says:

    It’s the letting go that makes parenting the most challenging. *getting there*. Nice post.

    Fantastically yours,

  5. Anonymous says:

    Read Tammy Hetrick’s account of teaching her son to drive.

  6. Silvia Siret says:

    Letting go – yes. That’s an every day challenge for me. Lovely post, thank you!

  7. Twitter sent me to you. And oh my, can I relate to this post! Our son has just gone to college…the letting go has been a years-long process. I’m truly grateful the Universe brings it to us in small doses along the way, because the actual letting go at this point in the game carries so much heartbreak. People said that to me, and I wasn’t ‘thinking’ it – I was actually looking forward to the change in our home and our lives. And for sure, it’s been a lovely change of pace to downsize on so many levels after so many years. 

    But what I haven’t been prepared for – how can you be? – is what happens beneath the surface, outside the realm of the mind, in the core of the heart where you love so deeply there aren’t words to define it. In that place the cracks are as big as those left by an earthquake. I trust and believe wholly what Rumi says – those cracks are where the light shines through. I’m welcoming it, and continuing to love our son as I continue to let go. Much, much love to you. xoxox  

  8. Anonymous says:

    Thanks for commenting Jackie, great hearing from you about your recent “lesson” I can SO relate as we just dropped our eldest off to college 2 weeks ago. I find I’m feeling the exact same mixed emotions that you so well expressed. The new adult son/parent relationship is new territory for us all and we’re learning to find our way stumbling along in a rather clumsy way. And yes, there are skinned knees, hearts wrenched open, and it hurts.

  9. Gamma says:

    My fear: My twins sleep in the middle of the night I get up. I go to the bed of my beloved son. He breathes hard, he has a face like an old man a folded. The doctor can help me, I’ll take him to the hospital, he is safe for now. Some time later, I wake up again, to my horror, the same again. Now I wonder no doctor what I should do. My son could not move properly after, he cried and cried, God have mercy. He went to the junior high school, now as an adult he tries to reach maturity. Did God mean it is not good to me? God’s blessings to all and a wonderful day.
    ps. Pay my fear, I invite them daily, the black queen has to say to me always new.

  10. AWB says:

    This came at the perfect time, I needed to see this. Such serendipity.Thank you, and bless you.

  11. Jennifer F says:

    Don’t tell him you cried when he left, tell him you know he never could

  12. You always manage to make me cry Meg! 🙂

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