She'll take the painting in the hallway, the one she did in junior high.
And that old lamp up in the attic--she'll need some light to study by.
She's had 18 years to get ready for this day.
She should be past the tears; she cries some anyway.
Oh, oh, letting go. There's nothing in her way now.
Letting go, there's room enough to fly.
Even though she's spent her whole life waiting, it's never easy,
Letting go.*
Our son got married last week, bringing the total of married children to five (thus far). I've been thinking a great deal this past year about 'letting go' and what that should look like. High school graduation, in our house, is our first glimpse. Then they go out on their own--sniff. But there's nothing quite as final as marriage because now a new covenant has been created--one that doesn't include us at all. When a child says "I do" to their love, they also say "Goodbye" to us. But we aren't always as good at saying goodbye to them. We might say it in theory, but we aren't good at saying it in practice. The problem is that what feels to us like our affectionate hand on their shoulder feels to them like a grip on their ankle, like Uncle Andrew grasping at Polly and Digory on their way to the Wood-Between-the-Worlds. But if a woman is to leave her home and a man is to leave his father and mother, then it can be inferred that parents must let that woman and that man go. Since this is harder for moms than for dads, here's the short, simple protocol I have developed over the past nine years as a mom-to-marrieds.
DO recognize that, while you are the despot of your home, your daughter and daughter-in-law are the despots of their homes. This is a biblically-sanctioned household governmental role, and you need to respect it. You must decrease, and she must increase. Your realm will soon shrink to just you and your husband. Your realm, in no possible way, extends to your adult children and their children.
DO realize that the household that just formed is not a church plant from the mother kirk; it is an entirely independent household.
Do NOT issue requests. Even nicely phrased ones like, "I'd like you to spend your holidays with us/ visit our church/meet our social circle/ call you Aunt Betty" are assertions of an authority that no longer exists and, therefore, a power play. Don't do this.
If the married daughter/daughter-in-law lives far away, do NOT complain to her. It is possible that she is missing you, in which case you just made her homesick. It is also possible that she is enjoying the distance, in which case you just made her claustrophobic.
Do NOT visit for the maximum amount of time. When you leave, she should wish you'd stayed longer rather than wish you'd left sooner.
If the married daughter/daughter-in-law lives locally, do NOT invite yourself over or show up unannounced at her door. This is the despot's domain, and her own home should be the safest place of all from your encroachment.
Do NOT share one adult child's news with another adult child. Do NOT talk about your relationship to one adult child with another adult child. Your children are not your support group.
Brett has a simple protocol for relating as a father to his married daughters:
Do NOT inquire about your girl's emotional issues, relational issues, spiritual issues, physical issues. This kind of intimacy is out-of-bounds. First of all, Dad, she already has a husband; it is his job to bear her burdens. Second, you already have a wife and maybe children still at home. It's your job to focus on them. Think of this like being a confidante to another man's wife. Totally inappropriate.
Likewise, there is a simple protocol for mothers of married sons:
Do NOT be a burden to your boy. Do not share your emotional issues, relational issues, spiritual issues, physical issues with him. This kind of intimacy is out-of-bounds. First of all, you already have a husband; it is his job to bear your burdens. Second, your son has a wife and children. It is his job to focus on them. Think of this like confiding in another woman's husband. Again, entirely inappropriate.
I couldn't sum it up better than author and podcaster Nancy Wilson (mom to 3 and grandmother to 18). "You had your chance; now be quiet."** That's my mantra.
I had my chance; now be quiet.
I had my chance; now be quiet.
I had my chance; now be quiet.
(And, dads, don't be passive. If your wife isn't doing a good job letting go, step in. Brett reminds me when I am encroaching. That's not just good advice; that's a relationship saver.)
If, at this point, you're thinking of all the ways you've blown it with your adult kids, be of good cheer. That is going to happen! Just ask their forgiveness, and resolve not to encroach again. If you aren't sure, put on your thick skin and get a progress report. I sat down with two of my married daughters a couple months ago to do just that. It was extremely helpful to all of us.
The evidence is in, ironic as it may be.
Hold on, even loosely, and you will create distance.
Let go of your kids, and they will come back to you as friends.
It' so worth it!
Mother sits down at the table, so many things she'd like to do,
Spend more time out in the garden. Now she can get those books read, too.
She's had 18 years to get ready for this day.
She should be past the tears; she cries some anyway.
Oh, oh, letting go. There's nothing in the way now.
Letting go, there's room enough to fly.
Even though she's spent her whole life waiting, it's never easy,
Letting go.
p.s. My husband loved this post and feels like it is important to get this message out. So if you found this helpful for yourself or you think it would be helpful to someone else, would you please share this post on your social media account? Thanks!
*Bogguss, Suzy. Letting Go. 1991.
**Wilson, Nancy. Building Her House. Canon Press.2006.
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