Empty Space

The reality of Tennie moving out hit me hard yesterday. I spent the morning cleaning the walls and baseboards of her empty room (as Ceci will move in soon). I paused to take this in.

And I stood a moment absorbing this.

As I made my way around the room I came across this drawing by Ceci on the far side of Tennie's bed, at bed level. I had noticed a drawing was there before, but I had never really looked at it. But this day I did.

Ceci had left it for Tennie the day we left for Cambodia without her.

As I scrubbed, I thought about raising Tennie. It wasn't always easy; often we butt heads. I remembered the ways I used to worry about her, the ways I was critical of her weaknesses, and sometimes even her strengths. I reflected on how I wish I would have done many things differently as her mom. I've talked to Tennie recently about these things. I've asked her forgiveness for my mistakes.

I thought I had already mourned her leaving, as we had conversations about her moving out months ago, and we ended up traveling without her for so many months. I had already made a decision to let her go; I knew it was time for her to make choices, learn from them, and work out her own life moving forward. It took some wrestling to accept that my parenting role needed to change. This was all a process and ultimately a choice. It was hard emotional work for me.

I know Tennie was God's before she was mine, but I felt a deep sadness that my short time with her was over. Thankfully I will always hold the role of her mother, but my application of that role has changed, and I was again mourning the end of her childhood. I feel a large void, an empty space in my heart and life, just like that empty room in our home.

I guess Tennie and I are both facing some growing up pains, just different phases. Both of us have a large empty space to fill with new experiences and relationships. Both of us have unknown things to learn, and new experiences to have. I'm allowing myself to feel the emptiness for now, but soon I will begin to explore how to fill the empty space with new interests.

Before I go, let me share a note I wrote to Tennie as part of a church class this past Sunday. It attempts to capture her great soul.

For over 18 years I have watched and marveled at your powerful, indomitable spirit. You were born ready to take on the world. Your enormous spirit seemed to want to burst out of your small body.

Your creativity and imagination, mixed with your leadership and kindness, and your extraordinary people skills, made you overwhelmingly mighty from the beginning. Your sense of adventure was evident from the time you rode around in the Baby Bjorn, the summer we lived in Chiapas, Mexico when you were 3-6 months old, pumping your arms and legs excitedly, smiling and making eye contact with every single passerby. You skipped right over the separation anxiety stage, as you were born with a gift of independence. Watching you throughout your childhood was like watching a master artist who would experiment with different elements of the world to create new masterpieces. It was messy, often loud, and always a magical and exciting process. 

I've had the opportunity to sit on the front row for 18 years, and now your'e off to a new stage with new audiences - bigger and better. Listen for me, I'll be cheering at a distance.

As hard as it is to let her go, I can't wait to watch the future she and God will create together.