If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your mask on first, and then assist the other person. –Airline Hostess

One thing that I have not written much about, but which is really the most difficult part of my divorce is the change in my relationship with my children.

I miss them.

I miss being a Mom.

All of my children are nearly grown. They are not little kids. Even the youngest had mostly begun to see me as a food source; “What’s for dinner, Mom?” seemed to be the only topic of conversation in the last few years.

My daughter is an adult in her late twenties and the boys are late teenagers. They all have lives to live, and that separation from the mother had already begun long before the divorce proceedings.

When I left, part of my reasoning was that they did not seem to need me anymore. They were settled into their lives with their father, and I felt like I was no longer needed. My daughter had shunned me for most of the time leading up to the divorce, angry and hurt. Just walking into my old home was so painful, I could barely stand it. Taking my kids out to dinner was awkward, and I often felt like I was intruding on their lives. I didn’t want my sons to start to resent me the way my daughter seemed to. I was in so much pain that I didn’t know how to relate to being the “absent parent.”

My daughter kept telling me that this wasn’t about me, to which I still have no response. How could my divorce not be about me? Everyone else seemed to be moving on, staying with the same attachments, while I was flapping my wings and trying to take flight.

“Taking flight” has a double meaning: I could be flying away from something, and I could be soaring to new heights. I think it is a little of both.

Being a mother is difficult. I have been a mother since I was twenty-three years old, which is more than half my life. I have spent so much time caring for other people that I barely know how to take care of myself.

And that seems to be the crux of the matter: I really don’t know how to take care of myself.

On the airplane, they tell you to put the oxygen mask over your own face first and then take care of the child. You can’t help the child if you cannot breathe yourself.

I have not been able to breathe. I am still finding it difficult.

My greatest fear is that while I am learning to breathe, something will happen to my children.

I have to trust that my ex-husband, the church, and the school community will take care of them, and more importantly, that being young adults, they will learn to take care of themselves.

My second greatest fear is that they will resent me for leaving.

The absolute worst part of the divorce for me was my daughter’s reaction. It brought up so much pain, anger, and fear in her that it was overwhelming for both of us. She has barely spoken to me the last year, and when she has her words were filled with resentment. I hope and pray that she will heal her wounds and I will heal mine and we can be close again. I miss her so much.

Until that day, I am trying to come to terms with all that has transpired, to lean into to the wind.

A friend compared me to a dandelion seed last night.

A dandelion grows where it falls. It is blown into the wind, and the seeds dance through the air until the wind dies down, then they grow where they fall.

I am dancing in the wind.

Namaste’ ya’ll.