The Writing is On the Wall

I can divide my life into very distinct chapters: childhood, college, career, marriage and children.  Childhood was filled with lots of singing and dancing on stage and loving every minute of that.  Family was complicated.  Friendship was complicated.  Off to college, UCLA.  An incredibly fabulous and tumultuous four years.  Made friends for life.  Moved to NYC and began my career as a theatrical agent.  It wasn't always an easy path, but I did meet interesting people.  I ran my own business and spent 21 years in the business of show.  

The business of show paled quickly once my children were born.  My husband and I wanted children for a long time and when our beautiful twins were born, life happily changed forever.  Never thought I'd be so focussed on children.  Hadn't really been around babies much until my sister had her first born, so this was really unchartered waters.  I cherished the 4am feedings when the city is in between the late nighters and the early risers. Then through every accomplishment, we were there.  Do you remember nursery school graduation?  I sobbed like a baby when my kids graduated.  I remember my own nursery school graduation.  I don't remember any tears being shed.  Through all the grades and accomplishments and challenges of elementary school (here called lower school), I was there.  When they did the step up ceremony from 5th to 6th, it took all I had to hold it together.  Middle School (which we used to call Junior High) began, just like that.  

In the middle of all this, there were sporting events, musical productions, choir concerts, sleepaway camp.  Every year school would be over, and we would go somewhere as a family.  I cherished that time before they'd go off to camp.  Today, 9th grade is over.  What are we doing?  We aren't doing anything.  One child is going off with another family for the weekend, the other is going to a basketball clinic.  And so it begins.  They are growing up too fast for me.  I can't hold them down, though I'd like to very much.  I know how it goes, really I do.  I remember being a kid that age like it was yesterday (can't remember yesterday, but can remember 40 years ago).  The problem is that with every day they don't need my constant attention, what do I do with that energy?  The warnings were sounded years ago, better find something meaningful to do for yourself.  Still trying to figure that out.  The energy level has diminished and the passion has subsided for the next chapter.  I know this isn't uncommon.  As so many things in life, volunteering has gotten more difficult. Everyone needs volunteers, but finding something isn't easy. Forms to be filled out. Medical exams to be done. Training sessions to attend.

So I keep ruminating and writing.  Keep trying to cherish and hold onto each and every single moment with my children. As I begin, I end this.  The writing is on the wall; I just can't read what it says.

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