Is it enough to know I am loved?

Hi there. So yesterday I was feeling bummed because I don't get to talk to you (all three of you) very often. I KNOW that you love me, so no worries there. This is not to make you feel guilty or anything. Just let me ramble. I was thinking about my mother, how she wrote me religiously every week (and expected a once-a-week response) and she would go on and on about her day, what she ate, etc. Not always interesting, but once in a while she shared her thoughts and feelings about life and I still have some of those letters. I was thinking to myself - why did she write me every week. Did she really think I cared about all that trivial stuff? (Not her feelings, but the other stuff). Then it hit me -- writing to me was her way of connecting to me. It was her way of trying to reach out and touch me. And she shared all that stuff with me because she wanted me to know her. So I guess that's what I want also. I want you to know me -- to know what I think and feel. To know about my day, or my week. I asked myself the question - is knowing I am loved enough? And the answer was no, it's not enough. I want an ongoing relationship with my children. I was going to send this as an email but you're too busy and wouldn't read it anyways. So I'll just put it in my blog.

Growing Pains

No one ever prepares you for sleepless nights when you’re new parents, and no one
prepares you for the challenges of parenting adult children. Perhaps when they were small I longed for a time when they would be independent and wouldn’t need me so much. Now I long for those early years when they wanted to climb into my lap, or competed for a chance to sit by me at dinner.

If only I could go back in time and do the whole child-parent thing better. I’m talking about my own mother. Now I know how she felt when I left home, how she longed to talk to me and felt hurt when I was too busy, or didn’t respond to her letters. I know now how she felt when she called me, only to be told that I was busy, and that it wasn’t a good time to chat. I wish I could
tell her that I was sorry – I wish I could hug her for a long time and reassure her of my love and tell her about my life – for she longed to know about my adventures. She was my greatest
encourager; she smiled with me and grieved with me.

Don’t misunderstand; I know that my children love me. I just miss hearing about their day, seeing their facial expressions, and mostly, feeling their hugs. Of course we now have modern technology so I can still see them with video chats, but that requires coordinating schedules
and they are, well, too busy most of the time.

Now with Facebook and other social media there are ways to view their activities and see who their new friends are, but I feel more like a stalker when I do that.

I have a full life, many friends and many hobbies. I have a wonderful husband who loves and
supports me. I am proud of my three adult children and they know they can always come to me.

I just have to accept that they are adults and that it’s normal for them to develop lives of their own. And when I least expect it, there’s a phone call, email or text message with those three words that I love to see/hear: “I love you!”