Why is the Quiet so Loud?

I drove my oldest daughter back to work about an hour ago. I just watched my son and my youngest daughter walk out the door with their dad. They will be with him through the long weekend until Monday night. I know this is a choice that I made that I have to live with. I know there are parents on summer holidays right now, wishing for a moment of solitude away from the boredom noise of their children. I know there are parents who have lost a child, or who are separated from their children either physically or emotionally. I know there are parents who are watching their children suffer from illnesses and disabilities. I only wish that all of this knowledge that I have, would somehow ease the sick feeling of separation anxiety that I feel each time I have to say good-bye to my kids.

I have no doubt that my children are well-cared for when they are with their father. In fact, I encourage the relationship they have with him because I know it is important for children to have two parents who are actively involved in their lives. It is also important that the kids have two different adult role models, as I think we each offer unique points of view regarding their choices and questions.

However, as a self-declared perfectionist mother, I struggle with the "not knowing". What are they eating for supper tonight? Did my youngest remember to shower and use enough shampoo? What is my teenage daughter doing on the weekend? Who is she with? Where is she going? Is my son arguing with his dad as much as he argues with me? And the countless other questions that run through my head when they aren't with me each day.

Technology has made the life of a single parent much more adaptable with the ability to communicate at any given moment on any given day- msn, text messages, cell phone calls, email... The sound of their voices helps. Their smiles on Facebook make me smile back. But, there is nothing like the laughing I hear from my rec room, the footsteps through the house, the doors opening and closing, the feeling of their presence.

The missing of my children and the overwhelming noise of the silence was one of my biggest fears when my marriage broke down. A counselor who was guiding us through the process of ending our marriage and helping our kids to cope, offered some wisdom that I try to hang on to when I watch my kids leave. She said that as parents, our children are only on loan to us. Each day that they are with us, we are teaching them to become more independent. They bring us joy and fulfillment, combined with the anguish and the worry. But, ultimately, they will become their own directors and producers of their lives. We will always be their parents. We will always be a support. But, eventually, we all have to learn to let go.

With this in mind, I fill each moment I spend with them, listening to their words, watching the expressions on their faces, being the observer of their lives. The complaining, the eye-rolling, the sarcasm, the tears, the smiles, the hugs...I take it all in. I hold those memories close to me when they aren't with me, and this is what gives me my strength.