Musings of a mother-in-law to be
Break it to me gently!
“Mom, I’m getting married at the end of next month!”
That’s how my beloved first child, my son, told me of his upcoming nuptials. He did not sit me down and give me some tea, or even a glass of water. No way, he just ‘dropped it like it was hot’. It was decisive and a done deal.
Us mums are not to be mistaken for the flowers called ‘mums’, sitting calmly and nicely waiting to be watered to bloom. We bloom within chaos and calm! I was stunned. It should have been expected but I guess there was that illusion of innocence allowed to cloud my vision. We know our babies will become men and women and leave us. In my case, I’ve been hoping I can leave them in like manner before they do the wedding march.
Mum and son conversation
“Son I really want to get married. Was waiting for you guys to grow up, but can’t seem to meet anyone. Maybe its too late, am I too old?”
Son looks up in the air and then at mum, “ well I guess you won’t meet anyone within this house so you need to go where you will meet people!” Gives his mum a ‘duh’ look of amazement!
I get it. As a single parent my focus has been on finances, children, and a thousand other things. Eventually they do grow up and walk in the direction of their choices. I get it. This is how life is supposed to be. So why does it feel like somehow an earthquake just shook my house?
Life of three turned 2 a few years ago, for a while. I recall another conversation with my eldest son.
“Son, I don’t see much of your brother anymore. He is always either by his girlfriend or work or out. He doesn’t even eat home much. Maybe its time to talk to him about the birds and the bees?
Son looks at mum incredulously, then responds “he is over 21, and has moved in with his girlfriend over 6 months mum. Didn’t you notice he was gone when he left with his computer?”
Mum responds, “ know he likes to ‘play game’ on his computer and thought he just took it to her place to ‘play game’. Thought that’s what they were doing.
Son looks at mum in total amazement and says, “ so you really think your son, my brother , is visiting his girlfriend and ‘playing game’ all the time for the last 6 months? Don’t worry about that ‘birds and bees talk’, think he figured it out a long time ago!”
Life is really about the birds
Okay, I get it. Maybe I’m not the thinking clearly with my children, but the years pass so fast and suddenly they are adults. Us mums are great with change, we have to be to survive the growing pains of our lives and that of our children. Now, the nest looks empty with no more eggs to hatch. What can the birds teach us human mums?
The mummy birds are good with teaching their kids to fly and moving on. They hang around until their babies’ wings are developed and sometimes push them out of the nest. The young ones are suddenly mid-air and have little choice but to flap their wings frantically calling for help. As they do that, they realize they don’t need help because they are flying. The mummy birds are usually close-by to help, but don’t step in. They know for survival in this world, everyone needs to fly!
My big question to me is, “why didn’t he break it to me gently?” and responding to myself the answer, “he’s been dating for over four years the same chick… duh!”
Its almost time for some readjustment, and soon it will be my time to fly alone. Only one more bird in the nest and that one is begging to fly at 20!
Can you support my heart on this screen with your ‘click’ after reading. There is a link to share and I hope you will share with your mum and other mums. You can also comment and share with me your thoughts on this new ‘life’! Thanks for reading and being awesome!
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About me: I’m a corporate business veteran with experience in a diverse range of industries — FMCG/Safety/HVAC / Industrial equipment and much more. Sales, Marketing, Business Development and Coaching are combined to deliver over 30 years of solutions. As an Entrepreneur and Blogger (Dwordslayer) I’m living an adventure — looking forward to the next opportunity to challenge mediocrity.
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