Until We Meet Again

They say that nothing can prepare you for childbirth and I’ll tell you something else that nothing can prepare you for: the first child leaving home!

He arrived on Mother’s Day twenty years ago with his fuzzy, golden head and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I took to him instantly, every maternal instinct alert, never once imagining that the very best thing I would need to do for him one day, would be to let him go. For two decades I revelled in hands-on motherhood, and then off he flew yesterday; on a one way ticket, across the ocean. He went like an arrow into the future, landing in the middle of Christmas Day whilst his family back home were only just waking up.

On this very day we remember that the Father gave His Son to the World, we find ourselves raw, disjointed and limping along a little because, we too, have just given our son to the world. It feels unnatural and it was difficult to do but it is as it should be! It’s all very good. We celebrate and we cheer him on, but we are crying at the same time.

After all the final hugs and waving until he was out of sight, we held onto one another and sobbed. One child cried himself to sleep. It was Christmas Eve and I’m sure we were supposed to be wrapping gifts and eating chocolates, but we crept around tender-hearted and fragile.

It was all far more painful than childbirth ever was, and so it was interesting to notice that our one handmade ornament with, “Joy to the WORLD,” etched into it looked more like it was saying, “Joy to the WOMB.” I took the message to heart. In that very place of sadness, joy trickled in. Low lying clouds, carrying the promise of rain and refreshing, set in as they so often do during this season. We stopped tormenting ourselves with his empty bedroom and began to prepare the space for his younger sister. She has been looking forward to having her own room and it was strangely cathartic to fill his empty space with her pink linen, colourful rug and a string of fairy lights.

He might have a long line of siblings still at home, but nobody can ever take his place. He might be out of sight, but he’ll never be out of mind. We will write and message and speak on the phone and we will figure out how to take family photos without him in them. I reckon we will even realise that our bonds are stretchier than we ever imagined. At night he won’t be in his bed at the end of the passage way, but we will be under the same moon, under the same universal laws, under the same watchful eyes of our God. And one day, sooner rather than later, we will be together again.

Thank you Father, for the gift of peace, hope, joy and eternal life. Thank you for giving us Your Son. Thank you, also, for giving us our son, and for this bitter sweet day on which he has flown true and landed well.

May the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other. (Genesis 31 v 49)

Comments


  1. Gosh Taryn


    1. I know, right! X


  2. Huge hugs to you all and a very happy Christmas under the same moon xxx Peggy


    1. Aaah Pegs xxx love and hugs


  3. Yikes! Couldn’t finish this one! We’ve got 19 days to go before Liv departs for London Already feeling all the emotions too!!
    Love you guys


    1. Sorry guys! My heart is with you! Everyone who has gone before us says it’s going to be ok, so take heart! We send so much love X


  4. No one teaches us how to manage life. Yes, our parents give us guidelines, but we still have to tread a path that often feels dreadfully unsafe and we begin to doubt.
    A sure way to see how we are doing is to watch our children negotiate that same path, have the dreams and desires that go with leaving home.
    Hopefully we have instilled enough life skills in them that they can become part of society like us, that they too are confident, competent people who will (hopefully) lead happy fulfilled lives.
    They will, because they are our children


    1. So true, and you’ve certainly raised beautiful souls xx


  5. This is beautiful Taryn!


  6. Beautifully told Taryn, but oh what an adventure for Caleb. Rejoice with him and enjoy his journey.


    1. Absolutely – what an adventure for him. It’s certainly a consolation that he wants to do this, very much so! If it was a case of us having to kick him out the nest, Id have just said, no worries let’s try again in 5 years, haha


  7. You have given the world a great treasure in the body of Caleb. There was a sign at the airport saying “the best present is about to arrive”and it is true. He is a wonderful son and he will make you proud. Your hearts will make room for this new world you find your selves in.


    1. Glad I’ve got you to show me how its done x


  8. A totally heart rendering Scribbling, Tarry! My heart goes out to you. Lots of love ❤


    1. Thanks Granny Tammy xxx


  9. Oof, tears rolling down my cheeks reading this. Empathy empathy empathy. So hard to watch them fly but knowing at the same time that it is good and right. Sending all my love xxxx


    1. Thank you Jules! Who knew, hey? But apparently we will all be ok! It’s better than them still living at home at age 45 I’m told, haha


  10. So much love to you dear girl!!! I still remember meeting wee Caleb with his big blue eyes at Zim fest, all those years ago. He will do you so proud… Just you wait and watch. Biggest hugs xxx


    1. Thank you Carleigh xxx


  11. So so true it’s a tough process but your heart grows bigger with more capacity somehow to learn about their new lives – sending love


    1. So encouraging, thanks Leigh


    2. What an amazing adventure for him
      Your tears are ours.
      He will be happy. And the wonderful
      Thing about them leaving. His life path.
      Is just starting. And he will make you so proud.
      Take care of yourself and your family.
      Love olive.


  12. Oh how I can relate! We watched Scott go on a flight to the UK waving him off until he was just a dot in the distance. I turned to Dave with tears running down my cheeks and cried “I should be going with him to help him settle in”. The pain was great!! It was a tough moment, filled with grief and uncertainty, but also one that stretched my trust and faith in ways I hadn’t imagined. I realized that I couldn’t be there physically for him, but God could—and He would be. And, as time went on, I saw how God provided for Scott in ways I never expected, how He placed people and opportunities in his path that I couldn’t have orchestrated.

    Sometimes, the hardest moments are the ones that deepen our relationship with God, teaching us that our love and care for those we cherish can be placed in His hands, and He will hold them even more securely than we ever could. It was a season of letting go and leaning into God’s sovereignty, which wasn’t easy but brought so much peace in the end.

    Sorry I didn’t mean this to be so long but my mother’s heart is feeling for you. Sending you all lots of love!! Chrissie


    1. Aaaah Chrissie, so wonderful to hear from you. I’m sure it won’t just be me who benefits from your comment. Thank you!!! Lots of love


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