let go. . .
I guess I should stop being a Chinese mother. Or in today’s vernacular, a “Tiger Mother.” One who protects her cubs no matter what. They don’t seem to want or need it. And I’m too worn out from their lifetime of worrying over them. There comes a time in a parent’s life when the kids just want to do things their way–this starts from an early age, but one scurries about nevertheless, placing a safety net under them, just in case.
When they stop telling you about what they are doing and go their own way, that’s a sign to let them go. Not just physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally. If they want to lead their lives in ways that you would not consider yourself, your job is to stay silent. Past a certain age (theirs and mine) your opinion doesn’t count for very much anymore.
Holiday plans are set up without my input, even though unvoiced expectations are still in place (“go ahead and do what you want, Mom”) but it’s not the same anymore. I still get to provide and pay for the venue (the “magical” setting, decorations, food and drink) but they do what they please (arriving late, rushing away.) How did this happen? Respect and regard somehow got lost in the shuffle. Once gone, it’s gone forever.
What does one do with this loss? If you figure it out, let me know.
Postscript: I think I’ve found the answer: “get a life of my own!”
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