We moved around a lot when I was a kid. I was never in the same school for longer than a year or two until I hit high school. (Thank you, JCPenney, for keeping my dad employed, and the rest of us on our toes at all times!)
Even though we didn’t get to sink our roots in one place for an extended period of time, I always knew where home was---Mom and Dad made it so. Whether we were in Illinois or Minnesota or Indiana, home was simply under the roof of yet another house that needed to be fixed up, with Mom making dinner, Dad making us laugh, and my sister Kim by my side through it all.
Kim was the constant for me through all those transitions (and still is). When you have to say goodbye to old friends and pack up to go make new friends, you rely on the constancy of the built-in best friend you’ve known since birth.
Kim and I have always had different interests, and our personalities are uniquely our own, and I think that’s been good for us. We have made each other’s worlds bigger, and loved each other for who we genuinely were (and are). I think I have always been most myself when I am with her. There is nothing to hide or prove. What a gift that is!
Kim and I have both gone on to raise our kids in situations that are drastically different from our own childhood, in that we have each inhabited the same states and homes for nearly 20 years. All four of our kids grew up in the same school district from preschool through high school graduation. They have been able to sink roots not just within our families, but within neighborhoods and peer groups that have been familiar to them their whole life long.
Until now.
Kim and her husband, Tim, just returned from South Carolina, where they helped their firstborn, my niece and godchild, Sarah, settle in for three years of graduate school. Her undergrad experience was at the University of Michigan, about 20 minutes from home, so meeting up for coffee or crashing in her childhood bedroom for the weekend were regular parts of the schedule. It was the perfect balance of gaining independence and “adulting”, with the comfort of having that soft place to fall nearby.
Now at 22 years of age, Sarah is in a brand new place with no one she knows close by (thank goodness her classes start this week!), on the verge of making her lifelong dream of becoming a doctor of physical therapy into reality. It is exciting and terrifying at the same time, as any season of new growth tends to be.
I love this girl like my own, and am praying feverishly that in her moments of doubt or loneliness, she will reflect on the roots she has come from. Those strong, solid roots will make it possible for her to reach for the sky. It’s easier to take chances and do new things when you know the people in your corner are cheering you on, loving and supporting you every step of the way, even if they’re not physically right there next to you.
My sister has been on my mind a lot this week. Her kids are older than mine, so I have watched and learned from her as a mom ever since our kids were babies. Can anything prepare you to let go of your child and let them spread their wings?
I don’t know.
How do you let your flesh, blood, heart, and soul go to places unknown?
Perhaps by trusting that they treasure where they came from, and will be able to sink roots of their own.
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