Regret

Your kids get to be a certain age and regrets just pile on.

It is unavoidable, really, especially when you are trying to do a thing really well. For a lot of reasons, it felt like heavy work to get our oldest two into young adult mode.

It had not much to do with them, and a lot to do with us.

Teaching kids to drive, navigate adult settings, form meaningful relationships, listen to their intuition, is a complicated endeavor. In fact, I found that I poured so much of myself into that occupation that when they were gone I was shocked.

I imagine a mother bird's immediate response to forcing her baby into flying is, "Oh, crap!"

Then life yells "NO TAKE BACKS!"

I imagine this mother is contemplating all the trips they should have taken.

You are left with just your memories and thoughts. Suddenly everywhere you go is a family with four children, two girls and two boys, and they're doing the things you used to do with your family.

Or worse, they're doing the things you wish you had done with your family.

Poor Spencer and Liam. Determined to not make any mistakes with them I forged back into angry homeschooling. Fortunately, once I caught my jaw clenching I stepped off that train. My motto became, "When all else fails watch a documentary."

Still, at night, I would think of all the choices I should have made. I regretted not working more when they were young, I regretted not doing a different math curriculum, I regretted not taking them all camping more, I regretted not ever making sushi with them.

I regretted.

I regretted.

And I regretted some more.

Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.

Henry David Thoreau

Unfortunately, as I tended and cherished my regret I found that I was disappointed in me. In who I was. Wondering why I didn't do better, know better, needled at me silently throughout my days. Replaying difficult parenting moments kept me trapped in a place that brought me down in my present.

Regretting who I was then, the choices I made ten, fifteen, and twenty years ago, was doing real damage, because who I was led me right to where I am. Seeing things more clearly is the curse and the blessing of regret. I see now that my younger self was doing her best

If I was doing my best then, then it's fair to say that I'm doing my best now.

And my best needs to be good enough.

Through conversations with other people I realized that, while not everything that happened in my children's lives was as it could have been, they have turned into pretty amazing people. "Kara, your kids love spending time with you. What else do you want?" a friend asked.

Nothing. That seems pretty perfect.

Our kids, generally speaking, enjoy spending time with us. Even better, they enjoy spending time with each other. Each of them are unique, and their path is their own, but they share a generosity and kindness that I appreciate.

The things we lived through forged us in good and bad ways. Moving forward is the only way through. It goes back to radical acceptance.

As our new homeschool year begins I feel a freshness I haven't felt in a while. I can tell the boys feel it, too. I think that's how 'to regret deeply is to live afresh' is coming to fruition in my life. I can see that sometimes my feeling overwhelmed my ability to move forward. So I'll just stop that now.

I cannot reshape their memories, but we are able to build new ones. Lee and I can also be honest about our mistakes, the things we would like to erase. Sometimes that's the bravest thing a person can do.

Be brave, misfits. Just be brave.