“If you bungle raising your children, I don’t think whatever else you do matters very much.” ~Jackie Kennedy

I am no Jackie Kennedy. I “bungle” my way through everything I do, but I would wager that while she came close, she wasn’t perfect either. Today was a day off for me, and I had a long list of tasks to complete. At the top of the list, was a college visit for my oldest. With the commute there and back, the visit took more time than anticipated, and it took all my energy. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I feel wretched. The rest of my to-do list will wait. 

I have to constantly remind myself, that the three people I’m attempting to steer into self sufficiency are my legacy. My legacy is not work, and it’s not the old barnacle of a house I struggle to maintain, although both consume too much of my time. My legacy is releasing three decent specimens of humanity into the wild— world. 

This child of mine who I spent today looking at schools with, is the child I learned on. Learning how to drive a car with a stick shift, can be hard on the transmission. We learned that lesson the hard way— she’s a great driver now, but transmissions are pricey. I don’t think there is much of an analogy here, because while I learned to parent on her, she is shifting just fine. It’s my transmission, and transition that I’m worried about. 

When I walked in the house this afternoon, I had to look up Separation Anxiety. It is: “anxiety provoked in a young child by separation, or threat of separation from their mother.” I am very familiar with this, because my oldest was a textbook case… for five years she had to be pulled off me on almost every occasion.

The reason I had to look at the definition was because I wanted to see if it is specifically a child’s malady. Today I thought, someone may need to pull me off her when she’s ready to move on. I find these college tours frightening. It could be the urban locations of the schools we’ve looked at that are provoking my anxiety. Considering the fact that I grew up in a big city, this fear is a little ridiculous. It is completely irrational… this fear of leaving my children to fend for themselves in a big city, isn’t it? This is my baby we’re talking about. 

We have some visits scheduled in some less densely populated areas this summer. I’ll let you know how wretched I feel after those visits. Yes, I know it’s her decision to make, and mine to learn to deal with.
The Daily Post, July 6, 2015, Daily Prompt: Don’t You Forget About Me~ Imagine yourself at the end of your life. What sort of legacy will you leave? Describe the lasting effect you want to have on the world, after you’re gone. <a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/dont-you-forget-about-me/”>Don’t You Forget About Me</a><a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/dont-you-forget-about-me/”>Don’t You Forget About Me</a>

10 thoughts on “Wretched

    1. Thanks Marilyn. The way I feel now is surprising. I’ve always pictured myself releasing balloons and popping open a bottle of champagne… Maybe I’ll get there by the time she actually leaves. Independence has always been the goal.


  1. Interesting read. I am the oldest of my parents, and I am kinda close to my mother (and my entire family) and I am worried like anything to move more than thousand miles away to start working on my first job. My mother is more worried than me, but I guess life has to go on.

    Liked by 1 person

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