May 12, 2019

My son turned 20 today. At 6:18am.

First of all, the fact that I have a 20 year old floors me. I wonder if my parents felt the same disbelief when I turned 20 …

One minute you’re holding them in your arms, a tiny, wiggly baby incapable of doing anything on their own. Then, you’re walking them to school, holding their small hand securely in your own. Then, before you know it, they start driving a car and … graduate.

Thank heavens I have a portrait in my attic that keeps Me young … 😉

Yep. Jarod has officially ventured into his third decade … Twenty is kind of a transitional age. Not old enough to drink but old enough to vote, be drafted, and begin Adulting …

My son’s senior year was a very emotional time for me. And for him, as he himself understood and expressed in his final ROHS video “I Will Never Forget.” So many  “lasts.” It was a year full of ceremonies and endings, wrapping up his first 18 years of life. Tying up his “childhood” with a neat, tidy bow and a graduation ceremony at Freedom Hill.

“Freedom” Hill … oh the irony.

Summer weekends were dominated with grad parties and college planning. Then, before I knew it, we had packed up his most treasured, worldly possessions and loaded them in three cars — with the help of a color coded spreadsheet he created — to caravan to Wayne State University.

No, he didn’t choose a college in another state. But, I promised to treat this move as if he were 3-hours away, guaranteeing him the freedom and independence he had shown himself ready for.

He was starting a new chapter in the book we had been writing together for 18 years.

Jarod was excited — and so ready. And I was happy for him. Really, I was. But there was this part of me that felt a loss so deep that the pain was indescribable … a sense that my compass was losing its true north.

The move was easy. And he was so happy … quickly hanging posters, placing photos and settling in. But I cried as we drove away and spent many hours just sitting in his room, missing him.

But then a strange thing happened. Calls came in. Texts to just say Hi. Successes or challenges in classwork that he wanted to talk about. With me. Invitations for coffee or outings to the Hilberry to see a play and get dinner. To quote a song from one of his childhood favorite Disney Channel movies, it was “the Start of Something New.”

The conversations changed and a New relationship began. No, he didn’t crawl on my lap or need me to hold his hand while he walked to class. But he still needed his Mom. He still wanted to share moments of his life with me. And something new and wonderful began to take shape.

Oh, I miss my sweet little boy. The last bite thief, Barnes and Noble song and dance kid, and his “this is my good idea” proposals. But I treasure the opportunity to get to know the Man he is becoming as he meets the challenges of Adulting.

There are still special moments … calls where he shares what’s going on, times he asks me about recipes as he prepares meals in his apartment, outings to Barnes and Noble and weekends when he comes home and says, “I just wanted to come home and be with you, Mom.”

We turned the page together. And though I look back at the memories that play out in my mind like films, we now have new chapters to write as our Story Goes On.

It’s far too easy to look back and miss the Now and all it delivers. But from someone who’s still featured in the script, I can honestly say the plot twists, scene changes, and character developments in the continuing adventures of Jarod Clark are a great read.

There are really no beginnings that can happen without an ending. Sometimes you have to leave behind something precious. But, if you release your hold, you might just discover that what you thought you lost, wasn’t gone at all … just transitioning or transforming.

And, there really is another Chapter in the book you started all those years ago with your child. Many of them, in fact. And this new book in the series is as good if not better than the earlier editions. I promise. It’s impossible to predict or see that story since its still in production when our children stand on the precipice … that stage … to take their diploma or drive off to college or move away to begin their lives.

So…

Breathe and Turn the page.

And for heavens sake … don’t put down the book now. There’s so much more in the coming pages. Celebrate those moments from the earlier chapters. Relive them and smile. But keep in mind that the story goes on.

What I’ve learned in the past two of Jarod’s college years? The diploma, graduation and departure to college is by no means an ending of my special relationship with my son. The continuing adventures … and the fact that Jarod wants to share His Adulting with me … that’s priceless.

Turn the page …

                                                                                                                        Jenni

And P.S. For those of you without kids or for anyone not here yet who experiences changes as relationships ebb and flow … just keep turning the page. What you think is an ending, may just be the start of something new …

I don’t live in Perfect.

But, I don’t live in Good Enough, either.

Somewhere along the way — in my formative years — I inherited my Dad’s neat-nick habits. Everything has a place and there’s a place for everything. I like and maintain a neat and clean car, a neat and clean desk, a neat and clean house, a neat and clean kitchen, a neat and clean refrigerator and cabinets.

I clean my home weekly. I appreciate vacuum lines on my carpet and non-sticky floors. Dust makes me nuts. Counters are wiped down regularly and bathroom mirrors are streak free. We have a cat, so making sure the litter box area is swept up and cat hair is vacuumed supports my sanity.

During my workout this afternoon, though, my personal trainer Jillian Michaels mentioned that there are those of us who are too obsessed with “being perfect.” We’re hard on ourselves when things go awry or don’t happen in that nice, planned structured way we want them to. We’re critical of our looks, our bodies, our weight, our homes, our lives, our friends, our performance, our significant others … and so on. And that criticism holds us back. Makes us give up too quickly. And, it keeps our minds, spirits and bodies from achieving their personal potential.

We’re focused on something that cannot be achieved.

Perfection.

Well, I don’t live in perfect. And as neat as my home is, there are still places where it’s messy … where I’m messy. And when I look too close at those places, I can make myself crazy.

I jump around with Jillian, swinging that kettleball and doing my best to achieve toned arms and that super flat stomach. But, I’m not there. Yet. So, I keep working out. It’s a process. When I’m doing jumps or lunges, my breath comes quicker and my heartbeat races. And I’ve been working out 5-6 days a week for over … well, let’s not talk age okay … a really long time. I’m in shape. But not Jillian Michaels shape.

Exercising supports my mind and my spirit. It supports my health and my body. But, if you think I’m going to give up the occasional beer, basket of fries or delectable slice of chocolate cake to achieve that super flat belly, well … not gonna happen.

‘Cause, I don’t live in perfect.

I guess that’s another reason why I’m drawn to yoga. Yoga isn’t billed as an exercise … it’s a Practice. I practice yoga. And, I don’t perfect it or strive to be perfect when I’m on my mat. There are times I’ve lost my balance. Times I’ve literally fallen over. There are poses I just can’t do. Period. I may never be able to stick my leg straight out and grab my toes. I may never be able to hold crow pose on my arms for longer than a moment. I may fall in King Dancer. But, I can still practice. I can still try.

Yoga … the Firm workouts … Barre3 … Kettleball Circuit Training … each of these workouts help me align my body, mind and spirit. I will never master them. Some days on my mat are better than others. Just like some places in my home or projects on my desk or blogs in the Corner are neater or stronger or more structured than others.

Just like some relationships in my life are messier or more challenging or more inspiring on any given day. We don’t live in perfect. We are all works in progress. And to place the pressure of perfection on any aspect of our lives is to court certain doom.

Yet … I don’t live in Good Enough. I can’t look at a relationship or a project and be satisfied if I don’t offer my best. But, I can let go when I know I’ve done all I can. I’ve accepted that there are some things beyond my control. Some people with whom a relationship is too difficult, some projects that may never be completed, some dust under the bed I can’t reach … a drawer full of socks that never seems to be organized no matter how many times I dump it on the floor and reorder it.

But, if I’ve offered my best … that’s all I can do. And then be brave enough to let go.

No, I don’t and never will live in Perfect. I fall on and off my mat. It’s part of my Journey. As neat and organized as I may seem, there are places in my life that are just plain messy.

I’m okay with that. Jillian accepts me as I am. My yoga instructors support me despite my imperfection. Each time I come to my mat, I work out and I work in. Heck, that’s what I do daily. I wouldn’t want to change that … I’m still in process.

And if what I offer isn’t good enough for someone, well, they can move to Perfect and leave me be.

                                                                                                                    Jenni