(Sacred Ordinary)
I’m sitting in a parking lot again… but it doesn’t feel the same anymore.
It’s something I’ve done for years — waiting during practices, lessons, rehearsals.
But this time feels different.
Not because I’m not needed…
but because I’m not needed the same way anymore.
There was a time when I was needed for everything.
Shoes to tie.
Snacks to pack.
Questions that couldn’t wait.
My days were full in a way that felt overwhelming at times… but now I realize how sacred it was.
Now I look around and see something else.
Tyler is working — learning how to show up and carry responsibility.
Jacob is out there making his own money, figuring things out without me hovering.
Dylan is caring for his chickens and ducks like they matter — because to him, they do.
And Lillian… she’s catching things she used to miss, growing stronger right in front of me.
They don’t need me the same way anymore.
And that’s the goal, isn’t it?
To raise them so they can stand on their own.
But no one really talks about what that feels like on the other side.
The quiet.
The space.
The moment you realize your role is shifting… even though your love never will.
And in that quiet…
I’m starting to see him again.
Not just as the man who helped me raise them,
but as the one I’ve been standing beside all along.
Somewhere in the middle of life and kids and everything that needed us…
we got quiet too.
Not broken.
Not lost.
Just… quiet.
The other night, we found something again.
Nothing big. Nothing dramatic.
Just closeness.
Just that feeling of being held — not out of habit, but because it still matters.
And maybe that’s how this starts again…
Not all at once.
Not with grand gestures.
But with small moments that remind us we’re still here.
Maybe this stage of life isn’t about losing what was.
Maybe it’s about returning to what’s still there…
and choosing it again, on purpose this time.
I didn’t lose the years they needed me for everything…
I lived them.
I’m still their mom.
That will never change.
But now, I get to be something else too.
A woman rediscovering her marriage
in the space that raising them has left behind.
And maybe that space isn’t empty at all.
Maybe it’s not something to fill…
Maybe it’s something to reclaim.
A place where love isn’t competing with everything else,
but finally has room to breathe again.
And maybe… we’re not starting over.
We’re just finding our way back. 🌿
