I, Me, Mama

I struggle with the month of August.  Partly it's just too damn hot.  And being a February baby every part of my DNA recoils with the heat and humidity that is part and parcel to this stage in the wheel of the year.

Mostly though, more than any other, this month holds much nostalgia for me as a Mama.  A generous amount of melancholy comes to roost in my head and heart when this part of the year comes around.   I miss the open-ended way our days were spent together.  I miss the lack of routines and the absence of lunch-making duty.  I miss preparing for another homeschool year.  I miss the mornings of quiet I enjoyed knowing that all were asleep under my roof.   

Our days look a whole lot different now - with two old enough to live in their own postal code and one keen on spending time home alone.  I can't seem to figure out my role in this reality.  I have always been happy with the title of  "Mama".  Happy to spend my days creating childhoods.  Happy creating a home.  These are truths that don't lend themselves to resume building.