I just returned from a week’s vacation, visiting my daughter who lives thousands of miles away. Now, since I’m back “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road,” I’m feeling angry, hurt, and as if I’ve been left behind. Walking along the Yellow Brick Road, I was glad to hear a pile of soil on the ground calling out to me. The soil said:
SOIL: Hey you, I know how it is.
What? What do you mean?
SOIL: You have the “I wish I could adjust to being left behind” look on your face. I’d know it anywhere. I’m in the same place.
How so?
SOIL: Well, about a year ago, a seed came into my life. I hugged her under the ground so tightly I almost squashed her to death. I was just trying to keep her safe and warm.
I did the same with my daughter when she was a baby.
SOIL: Yeah. Whenever it rained, I did everything I could to be sure my seed was nourished with water. And miraculously, she grew roots.
I gave my daughter roots, too.
SOIL: But, my seed’s roots grew bigger and wider. Sometimes it drove me crazy, trying to figure out how to keep her nourished, and continuing to hold her in place, even when she made it difficult.
I’ve been there.
SOIL: And then…things started to fall apart. When I least expected it, my seed shoved herself above the ground. She grew a stem and kept growing higher and higher. She kept growing further and further away from me.
Welcome to my world.
SOIL: Then she grew thorns on her stem! Who told her to do that? Not me!
Sounds like my daughter’s tattoos. Not my personal favorite.
SOIL: I guess those are just parts of who they are. Anyway, at this point, my seed is a fully grown rose.
She’s beautiful.
SOIL: Thank you. But her stem is so tall and far from the ground, if I want to talk to her, I have to scream my guts out.
Most of the time, I talk to my daughter through some kind of a screen. It’s not the same as speaking to her face to face. I hate it.
SOIL: What’s up with this???? Why is this happening?
I don’t know! But leaving my daughter was so hard this time. Accepting I won’t see her in person very often makes me want to give up. I want to somehow separate myself from the pain. And move on!
SOIL: It breaks my heart when I realize no matter how hard I cry or how loudly I whine, my rose is never coming back down here.
Although…you know…you can never really separate from your rose. And I can never really separate from my daughter.
SOIL: Why not?
Because we carry their roots. And deep down, I think they appreciate knowing we support them.
SOIL: I guess in that way…we’ll never really be left behind.
__________________________________________________________________
How do you handle being left behind?
Note: A special, heartfelt thank you to baffledmum at: https://baffledmum.com/2018/04/25/giving-up/ Her post about “giving up” really inspired me. Check it out!
Copyrightoverthehillontheyellowbrickroad2018
Beautifully written Cathi. 🌹
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Thank you so much! 🙂
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Love this analogy. Perfection!
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Or maybe you meant purrfection? 🙂
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Oh, Cathi! I’m feeling with you – it must be so hard to live so far apart from your daughter and to know that it will take some time until you’ll see each other again in person. I’m really glad to live in the same city as my mum and see her very often. But as you said, her roots are left with you and she’s always a part of you no matter the distance. And I love the analogy of the soil and the rose that grows tatoos, eh thorns. 😉💕
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Hi Sarah, thank you so much for your supportive and very kind words. It warmed my heart when I read you’re hanging out near your mum. She must be happy.
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You’re very welcome, Cathi. Well, I don’t know about her but I certainly am happy to have her near me. 😊
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
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You too!
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I console myself that I’ve given my sons strong roots that will see them through life after I’m gone. While I’m still here, they know that they can count on me to keep them well rooted and nurtured.
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Smart and healthy attitude. I’m trying to get there! It seems to take time…
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Hmmm. This is a toughy, You’re not really left behind though, you just dearly miss her. Does she Skype? (Your daughter, not the soil)
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We tend not to Skype–it always feels like too much trouble to get all the tech stuff right, and the phone is convenient. Maybe we should try Skyping though. Good thought. Thanks!
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Skyping is really fun; my ex and I used to do that; you can arrange to have a meal together…
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The meal thing is a great idea! Suddenly, for me, that makes it less of a tech-y experience and more “human.” I’m definitely going to try that! Thanks!
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You’re so welcome : )
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Another great analogy.
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Though I guess analogies don’t always have happy endings. Or, they are works in progress, like everything else in the universe.
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Very little in life has a happy ending. Anyway, it is ongoing, even as one life ends, another begins.
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So true. And it’s comforting to know the soil is as miserable as I am. 🙂
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It’s probably unhappy about being dirt poor.
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As always, you hit the nail on the head. 🙂
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Such a difficult one this! We want our children to grow up & come into their own but it leaves us empty… I can’t imagine it! My husband wants us to migrate to Australia but I can’t even imagine leaving my mum behind, it’s the only thing stopping me. Why is life so difficult?! … Somebody really needs to invent a transportation machine which is cheep to use! Lol, if only! X
Thank you for the shot out on my poem, I’m glad it spoke out to you… Stay strong! X
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DON’T GO TO AUSTRALIA!!!!! (lol)
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I just want more sun & I’ll be happy! 😊🌞
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Ha ha! Well, summer is on the way. Maybe that will help.
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We did! From Finland. My parents left everything and everyone they knew to go to the other side of the world. They couldn’t even speak the language. We lived – and adjusted. And learned to appreciate and love it 🙂
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I emigrated to Australia by myself when I was 19, and didn’t see my Mum for nearly 4 years… hardly thought about it at the time… now I’m over 50, and she’s struggling back in the UK with ill health… be careful moving far away, as your heart is always being torn in two : / G
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Yes, live and learn. I wanted my daughter to have an the “adventure” she was craving…but adventures can turn into something long term. I see now.
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Best yet! That is wonderfully, heartfelt writing. I love it
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I’m so glad this meant something to you. I appreciate the great company.
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I congratulate myself on a job well done raising them. And try to rejoice in the fact that I know when I’m no longer here that they will still live a full happy life. Sometimes it works!
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I hear you. Sometimes I still struggle with those two concepts because they seem to go together I mean, if I did a good job raising my daughter, why isn’t it important to stay close by? Maybe staying close by isn’t the point?
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I think the point is when a child becomes an adult we can never have the closeness that came from a mother CHILD relationship. Now we must interact with them as adults.
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I don’t have children, Cathi, but your chat with the soil was so heartfelt and beautifully written that I can easily apply the learning to any separation, temporary or permanent, from someone we love. Thank you, and I hope you’re feeling better for having expressed your grief.
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I am feeling better after reading the warm replies and thoughts–including yours, of course. Thank you!
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😢 Right there with you. It’s so hard! I got my feelings hurt when my daughter said she didn’t want to do FaceTime before she left for Scotland. I guess she had a change of heart and we have communicated this way several times. It’s kind of fun. How else do I deal with it? My husband and I are “dating” more and I have av ever widening circle of friends who are going through the same thing.
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I love your “dating” idea. The more we can go on with our own lives and have fun, the better maybe we’ll all be.
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I kind of envy your closeness with your daughter. As I think I mentioned before, we have one daughter that won’t speak to us at all.
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The closeness does seem to shift a little bit because of the physical distance. I believe there are endless phases in this crazy life, and I’m hoping daughter will speak to you one day when she is able to look at the world differently. These journeys are so hard.
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Our oldest son lives in Darwin, which is 3000km away. We speak – or to be more correct, do Face To Face, every week on our mobiles. It is so much better than the old fashioned phone. There are apps you can download for that – just need one on each phone. I think you can even do it through Facebook. Kids grow up, make their own lives and their own way. If we have done our work as parents to the best of our ability, they will have the skills, values and beliefs to be strong and able. That is as it should be. Learning to enjoy the freedom of empty nesting takes a bit of doing. But you know what? I wouldn’t want my kids back home, much as I love them !
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I really appreciate your honesty. I have to admit since I’m on this journey. Years ago, when my daughter graduated from college, she lived at home for a while. I
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Sorry about the strange comment before. My cat tapped my computer screen and my comment sent before I had finished it. Anyway, I was trying to say, I appreciate your honesty as I continue on this empty nester journey and try to come out on the other end. Years ago, when my daughter graduated from college, she lived at home for a while. I have to admit, I don’t miss waiting up until 3 a.m. for her to return home from her nights out. 🙂
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Cats are so arrogant, aren’t they! Ours used to sit on top of the newspaper when we tried to read it. (pre computer days…)Our boys lived at home far longer than most kids. Marc was 28 and Christopher 24. Whilst it was lovely to know they were comfortable and happy to be with us, there comes a time when children need to leave the nest and make their own way. And then comes the time for us to settle into new ways of being too. A time to be and do things just for us. And it is all good.
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Amen!
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Absolutely marvellously expressed philosophy
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Thank you as always.
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This is another very powerful post and so true! Your daughter IS always with you and you with her. I do recognize the sadness and longing.
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Sigh. I guess the sadness and longing never really goes away…but hopefully over time it takes a back seat. 🙂
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I love the analogies in this post. So spot on!
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Thanks! Sadly, they are true. I think. I need more therapy to get through this. LOL
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This is so beautiful and so eloquently describes the feelings. I have them too. I love your description of who you are. It totally describes me. I love the name of your blog. I am going now to read more!
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Thank you so much. It’s very comforting to know you relate to what I write about.
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I’m coping by finding lots of new things to do, trying out stuff I was too scared to try when I was younger and getting out and about with my husband and friends. It is an enormous change in our lives when our children move on, no matter how proud we are of them, it hurts. I’m hoping, with time, we will readjust!
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I’m with you! It’s interesting that you’re doing things with your husband. I’m finding the same is true for me and my husband. Now we can pick up where we left off, before we had children, though we’ve experienced a lot of life since that time. Looking at the world through older and wiser eyes together.
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It’s almost a rediscovery as we have changed. 🙂
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Right! Great way to say it!
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It is so hard when our children grow up and move away. We miss them terribly, even though emotionally we are still very close. But you’re right, this is also the time to concentrate more on us, and to discover who we really are and what is left for us to do. When life gives you lemons……
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I find letting time pass and sitting with this idea makes it easier to move ahead. Patience.
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gosh-what a chord this struck with me. You do feel left behind when your children grow up and move on (as they ought to) I guess .. . growing up on a farm, we all stayed around-how very difficult it has been for me to lose that. It has taken me years to adjust-and I still miss those days and will cry after visits.
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Thank you so much for making me feel less alone. My heart hurts after visits too. I imagine it must have been wonderful having your family together on the farm years ago. What a wonderful environment. You gave your children that gift.
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it was handed down to me, so I too was blessed. It is the hardest thing to invest all in your children-and then they grow up. as is meant to be-ugh! best wishes to both of us.
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Absolutely! 🙂
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We all have those lovely roots. I don’t handle being left behind well at all. My son left the nest, came back, and left again. He is literally 5 minutes from me. I can’t tell you the last time I saw him So miles really don’t matter. When we give them wings, they fly. Isn’t that what we wanted? Hang in there, Cathi. I feel your pain ❤️
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That’s so funny! Your son lives five minutes away and you still don’t see him. Great point about the way this “wings to fly” thing works. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
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Yes! So we move on, as do they. They will never understand how we feel, until they have children of their own. 🙂
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You speak the truth. Now that I’m a parent, I know my own parents did the very best they could…even though sometimes it was a nightmare.
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Oh, so that’s where the term comes from, little people causing havoc!
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Ha haaaa!
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This post really stirs the heartstrings! My youngest just had his last formal, will graduate in 3 weeks, and so many emotions whirling around in my head. Yes, we want them to spread their wings and fly, but oh how hard it is to start that journey without us. I love the reference to the roots though, so true, we will always be connected to our children through those nourishing roots! Wishing you a happy Monday and a very happy week ahead!
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Before we have kids, no one tells us about this phase of life–the letting go part. I wish you a happy Monday and week as well!
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It IS hard to remember that they are growing/grown up, and they’re hardier if I let them go ahead and crawl around to the back side of the trellis, even if the sun’s not as bright back there.
I remind myself that they can’t come back to me, if I don’t ever let them go…
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I loved when you wrote, “I remind myself that they can’t come back to me, if I don’t ever let them go…” That alone is a brilliant thought and great to keep in mind every day.
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Beautiful. A perfect metaphor.
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Ah. Thank you so much. That means a lot to me.
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So very nice!
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I grieved when my daughter moved far away. Literally, the next day she found out she had cancer. After that, I didn’t care if she was on Mars, just so she lived. Thankfully, she did. Since then, she’s had two children. I am so grateful.
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Thank you so much for sharing your experience and perspective with me. Looking at the world that way makes everything seem very different and reminds me of what’s important. A heartfelt thank you.
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