- About
- Contact Us
- Mindfulness Writing Course
-
Articles
- Guest Blogs - Mindfulness Mothers
- Thoughts from a Mindful Mama
- H- Peaceful Parenting
- H- Inspired Living
- H- Critter Corner
- H - Mindful in the Messy Middle
- Travel Guide >
- H- The Fake it 'til You Make it Mom
- H- Change Can't Live With It. Life is Full of It!
- YOGA Blooms
- H- A Drop of Loving Kindess
- H- Notes to My Dearest Daughters
- H- Pieces from Finding Your Piece
- Podcast - Mindfulness Mothers
- Mindful Musings Blog
- Serenity Self Care Sessions
- Mindfulness Meditations
- OUR AFFILIATES
- We Support
- Mindfulness Storefront
Camping Confidence
July 2016
~ ~ ~
Dearest Daughter M,
It is the middle of summer. We have hit the halfway mark before school starts again. The summer has been filled with sleep overs, camps, and family vacations.
Yet, you are anxious for activity and adventure.
Eight years ago, after you arrived from Guatemala, at age five,
I only left you for ten minutes, with both of us shedding tears.
Now, you are leaving me for four days, off to a friend’s cottage in Northern Michigan: strong and confident. You have been to camp, but I went on vacation at the same time. This is different. You are different. This is new territory.
You are staying with a family, both you and I barely know.
You are hanging with a friend. You are visiting a new place; a cottage, filled with swimming, camp fires, and summer fun.
You are reliant on yourself: preparing, planning, and packing.
The morning arrives and my emotions are catching up to me. You notice.
I shed a few tears on the way to the friend’s house to drop you off.
“Why are you crying Mom?” “Are you nervous?” “Scared?” “Anxious?” “Sad?”
I settle on sad. I’m not really feeling anxious or nervous. I trust the family.
I guess I’m sad. I’m sad because you no longer need me like you did when you were five, six, seven, or even 12. I’m sad because I will truly miss you while you are gone.
Home, during the week, you are supposed to be here. Yet, you aren’t.
The house is quiet, with just your sister and me. The week is absent of our deep talks and funny moments. I have come to realize how much I rely on you,
even more than you rely on me. I need your hugs, your smile, your humor, and
your laughter. I need our talks about boys, friends, and life.
I need to feel connected to you.
With you gone, even for a few short days, part of me is gone too.
At the same time, I am happy for you. This is a great experience of summer fun,
that I enjoyed as a kid. I am proud of you for the courage you show
and the person you are, even though I miss you.
Love,
Mom
July 2016
~ ~ ~
Susan J. McFarland
www.susanjmcfarland.com
~ ~ ~
Dearest Daughter M,
It is the middle of summer. We have hit the halfway mark before school starts again. The summer has been filled with sleep overs, camps, and family vacations.
Yet, you are anxious for activity and adventure.
Eight years ago, after you arrived from Guatemala, at age five,
I only left you for ten minutes, with both of us shedding tears.
Now, you are leaving me for four days, off to a friend’s cottage in Northern Michigan: strong and confident. You have been to camp, but I went on vacation at the same time. This is different. You are different. This is new territory.
You are staying with a family, both you and I barely know.
You are hanging with a friend. You are visiting a new place; a cottage, filled with swimming, camp fires, and summer fun.
You are reliant on yourself: preparing, planning, and packing.
The morning arrives and my emotions are catching up to me. You notice.
I shed a few tears on the way to the friend’s house to drop you off.
“Why are you crying Mom?” “Are you nervous?” “Scared?” “Anxious?” “Sad?”
I settle on sad. I’m not really feeling anxious or nervous. I trust the family.
I guess I’m sad. I’m sad because you no longer need me like you did when you were five, six, seven, or even 12. I’m sad because I will truly miss you while you are gone.
Home, during the week, you are supposed to be here. Yet, you aren’t.
The house is quiet, with just your sister and me. The week is absent of our deep talks and funny moments. I have come to realize how much I rely on you,
even more than you rely on me. I need your hugs, your smile, your humor, and
your laughter. I need our talks about boys, friends, and life.
I need to feel connected to you.
With you gone, even for a few short days, part of me is gone too.
At the same time, I am happy for you. This is a great experience of summer fun,
that I enjoyed as a kid. I am proud of you for the courage you show
and the person you are, even though I miss you.
Love,
Mom
July 2016
~ ~ ~
Susan J. McFarland
www.susanjmcfarland.com