Longing

I find myself longing to be part of a pack — a pack of moms, a family pack, a pack of writers, of seekers, of yogis, of friends.  And the weird thing is I am part of all those kinds of packs — I can walk in all those groups and be part of.  And I do.

And, and yet, I feel sometimes not part of,  enough.  Not having enough friends, or the friends I have don’t keep me from that weird, lonely, not-in-a-pack feeling.  Like I don’t have the coffee house from Friends friends, or the bar from Cheers, or NYPD Blue, or whatever.  

I don’t office so I don’t have that, and for a while school drop-off was a little that, like a meetup, those 5-10 minutes with fellow parents watching our kids assemble and touching base before the day.  

But now it seems like the kids are more and more getting shoved out of the car (including mine) and wandering in on their own.  Or people are rushing off to work or pilates or whatever faster than they used to.

I miss the unplanned camaraderie of earlier years and I don’t totally know how or if it will come back.

I miss being the mom of a young child who needs me to walk him into school, and the mom of an even younger child who needs me to witness his play dates.  And I’m glad he’s so confident in the world and gaining healthy independence.

Ax is 8.  He needs me.  He even likes me still.  But I see where this is going.  I see what’s happening.  And it scares me.  It makes me sad.  It makes me think maybe I better get more of a #nonmom identity so I don’t get totally whacked when my desirability dwindles even further.  

But I don’t want to pre-leave.  I want to keep myself as available as I can for now, for as long as he needs.  I get to do that.

I have to have faith that as space becomes available for nonmom-ing I will fill it with nonmom-ing.  I don’t want to fill it in anticipation of that.  And I don’t have to, which is incredibly fortunate.  And I’m grateful.  And I’m scared.  And I’m sad.  I’m gonna keep going.

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