Ringo #58
A Mother's love...
I’ve written previously about my “gap year”, that strange and exhilarating time when both offspring moved interstate to pursue their own adventures. After many happy years of committed motherhood in every aspect of the game, it felt liberating.
Time passed. One returned. Then I jumped ship myself, setting off on my own adventure. Now the three of us live in different states. I like to think we’re invested in three economies, three electorates, keeping the bastards honest, spreading our joie de vivre across the continent. A family model built on independence, mutual respect and multiple postcodes.
They say successful parenting means raising children who can stand on their own two feet, emotionally and financially self-sufficient, travelling through life without being propped up. And yes, that’s the goal. However, there’s a big but.
The tug of heartstrings when they can’t just drop in with a load of washing. When I can’t make their favourite meal, rub their backs during a bout of the “can’t copes” (a well-practised family condition), or watch a movie together and successfully order Yochi on Uber Eats without sending it to an address in a state I no longer reside in! True story! That delivery cost me $33 for a cup of melted salted butterscotch and chocolate. Honestly, I’m the one who can’t function without the children. Don’t even get me started on logging onto my online university course portal, I had to up my anti-anxiety meds to deal with that hullabaloo!
Being apart does, however, provide the luxury of time.
It’s Sunday. I’ve been to my local for poached eggs on sourdough with a side of spinach and a black iced coffee. I’ve smashed out an hour of work emails in preparation for another hectic week. Now home: washing (favourite pastime), uploading pre-loved items to Depop, navigating four platforms in my study; writing this column, attempting to study (unsuccessfully, clearly), planning the week ahead, singing with Olivia Dean and roasting a chook for lunch. I am, quite genuinely, as happy as a clam!
Later I’ll take my favourite Yin and Sound Bath class, then hit the couch for some committed binge-watching, followed by a steaming Epsom-salted bath, face mask, tea and finish my latest novel, purchased purely for its joyful cover, only to discover it could best be classified as lesbian porn. Enlightening, at least!
None of this means I don’t miss my kids like crazy. I’m constantly sending them links to articles, music, travel destinations, anything I find interesting, but I do give them the space to do what I once did, which is leave home and live independently.
I was 18 when I moved to Perth. It feels like yesterday I was in a share house with one of the original “luckies”. What fun we had! I love hearing their stories now, setting up their homes, building friendships, working part-time through hangovers that make you want to cry. The very best of times, and what you should be doing in your 20’s.
My best of times are only marginally different now: dinners, rooftop drinks, movies, long lunches and holidays with the “luckies”. Plenty of laughs. Constant plans for new adventures. Conversations involving sleep strategies, body balancing and business opportunities.
And most recently, my latest obsession: Karel Martens, Dutch graphic designer, typographic experimentalist and educator. I’ve fallen down that rabbit hole completely, thanks Ev.
Of course, I’ve already sent them the link! Different states. Same group chat.
Have a buoyant week….
Xx Ringo XX