Last night I fell deeply in love with my husband again. Not that I haven’t loved him all these years but he sent me a message from England telling me everything went well with his dad’s funeral and how pleased his mother was with the way things went. I could feel the love for his family with each word he sent but what put the icing on the cake for me was when he said he was going to take his mother out to lunch today. Out to a beautiful little old fashioned fish and chip shop called Colmans by the sea side. And it was this sentiment that brought tears to my eyes. That made me realize why I fell in love with my husband some twenty three years ago.
My husband and his mother have a wonderful and enduring relationship. Though he has spent many years, nearly thirty years away from her, with the majority of it being far across the Atlantic in Bermuda, their relationship, love and mutual respect spans that long distance. As if they are right next to each other. Distance not mattering. My husband calls his mother every single Sunday just to make sure she is okay. His father who died was on the receiving end of those calls as well.
My heart burst with love, with admiration and with pride to know I have a husband, a real man, who loves and cares so much for his mother that he wants to spend some quality time with her during their time of loss. To know he wants to get her out of the house. A house she has been confined to basically for the last three years because she was making sure her husband was okay. To take her to the seaside. To the lovely and old-fashioned restaurant that will help to rekindle memories of her youth for her. To spend quality time with his mother. Listening to her. Her listening to them. The two of them bonding as mother and son. No distractions. No one else but them. And I love my husband even more.
I think about my son. About him growing up rapidly before my eyes. About him trying to spread his wings. Testing the waters to see what his limitations and strengths are and I hope I am just as good a mother as my mother-in-law that my son will call me every Sunday once he leaves our home and will come to me in time of need. I hope I can raise a son who will want to return to me because he wants to not because he has to.
Learning from my mother-in-law that it is best to set the ground rules for our children. Remind them of their boundaries and then when it is time, let them go. But not before letting them know they are loved. And if need be, there is always a place for them when times are rough. That someone cares about them no matter what. Then when it is time for them to go, give them wings by not interfering but always be welcoming when they return. No expectations. Just pure love and understanding. If I remember this, hopefully my children will return to me when I need them with pure and open hearts filled with love, compassion and understanding. As my husband is doing with his mother.
Reminding me about the Circle of Life. How each us of is born as a babe incapable of taking care of ourselves. We become toddlers who learn to feed ourselves. Walk by ourselves. Talk by ourselves. Then we become children of the world full of dreams and possibility. Believing we can conquer the world. Until the world comes along and sometimes crushes those dreams. Particularly as we become teens trying to balance between childhood and adulthood. Wrestling with emotions and hormones. Before growing into adults who go out into the world either fulfilling our dreams or shattering them. Then for those of us fortunate enough we grow old and wise waiting for the time when we go back to the place we came from. With no regrets. No pain. No sorrow. Fully embracing there is a time and place for everything as long as we have known love. The Circle of Life. The Circle of Love. The Circle of Family. Infinite. Enduring and lasting.
To my husband with appreciation, love and pride. Setting a wonderful example for our children about the enduring nature of love and the Circle of Life. Enjoy your mother, wonderful son.
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