This one moved me so deeply, Elena… I’ve got months, not weeks left, but I’m already feeling all of the feels. Your words put some of what I sense in a wordless way into a relatable ribbon of magic and awe among us mammas. Love.
Dear Elena, Many years ago, I attended a retreat with you in the mountains of Montana. Your son was there; probably only five or six years old at the time. I was pregnant with my third. I watched in tender awe as he hung on you like a little monkey as you taught, and you allowing him to be there as himself, undisturbed by his presence. I fell in love with the way you handled him; so sweet and tender--I wondered if I would be so at ease with my own young sons hanging on as I taught... My youngest son is still at home, but I've recently launched my older two, and the grief you speak about here is so real and palpable for me right now, I can't help but allow the tears to fall as I read your resonant words. Thank you for setting such a beautiful example to me all those years ago, and thank you for your continued inspiration. Sending loads of love during this transition.
EMILY! HI dear one! I remember so vividly... gosh i appreciate this tender reflection so much. thank you, thank you. here's to that magical time in Montana...
Emily- love your response + memory with Elena as it brought me back to class last week when my 4-year old asked if she could come to class….then during a moment in table top she started to climb on top of my and reminding myself to *let her be* /cherish this moment instead of frustratingly asking to stop, or not right now. Thank you for sharing this ✨
Chloe, this is so relatable. I've had three kids through all of my teaching years, and I have so many memories of sharing my mat with a little one (or two) as I taught. Now that my kids are older, they are cherished memories, and I'm so grateful for each and every one.
Wow Elena, I’ve never even had this particular experience personally, but the way your words carry, touch, and move such deep feeling… Honoring your tender heart for feeling all of it and sharing a glimpse of that journey here.
I am a puddle. As I both remember a time when he was so young and you were new to me as a teacher—my own child still a baby—and the grief I fear will come sooner than I want when my own only bird leaves the nest one day. Wishing I could hold him close forever and also excited about who he will become in the world. The both ands of motherhood.
This was so beautiful. I was so moved by the intimacy and love in this tableau you so generously and vulnerably shared with us. Your baby bird has flown the nest but he will always be tethered to your heart. I can tell you this from experience, having seen two daughters off to college. Discoveries await for you and for him. Hold tight and breathe.
The tears are flowing. I am no where near this transition, and yet I feel your grief. Motherhood seems to be filled with it because it and our children are always changing.
my son is 18, so tender , so off to uni in the autumn, so talk, I too sink onto his chest as he tenderly calls me ‘little mama’ and says he feels the need to look after me 🙏
Wow beautiful essay Elena. Sending much love. The pic of you and your son reminds me of me and my son now. I have 7 years left before my oldest is 18 and my heart is on fire considering this future transition.
This is really beautiful. I’m “holding you in the light” as the Quakers say.
thank you, Alexandra. thank you.
Another moving essay, thank you. I hope your remaining weeks are beautiful and you take the space for grief and every emotion. ⭐️
that's been the thing, Brian. taking the space. today is one of those spacious ones, thank the gods.
This one moved me so deeply, Elena… I’ve got months, not weeks left, but I’m already feeling all of the feels. Your words put some of what I sense in a wordless way into a relatable ribbon of magic and awe among us mammas. Love.
ribbons of magic and awe... love you C
Dear Elena, Many years ago, I attended a retreat with you in the mountains of Montana. Your son was there; probably only five or six years old at the time. I was pregnant with my third. I watched in tender awe as he hung on you like a little monkey as you taught, and you allowing him to be there as himself, undisturbed by his presence. I fell in love with the way you handled him; so sweet and tender--I wondered if I would be so at ease with my own young sons hanging on as I taught... My youngest son is still at home, but I've recently launched my older two, and the grief you speak about here is so real and palpable for me right now, I can't help but allow the tears to fall as I read your resonant words. Thank you for setting such a beautiful example to me all those years ago, and thank you for your continued inspiration. Sending loads of love during this transition.
EMILY! HI dear one! I remember so vividly... gosh i appreciate this tender reflection so much. thank you, thank you. here's to that magical time in Montana...
What an incredible account. I’m so glad you shared this!
Emily- love your response + memory with Elena as it brought me back to class last week when my 4-year old asked if she could come to class….then during a moment in table top she started to climb on top of my and reminding myself to *let her be* /cherish this moment instead of frustratingly asking to stop, or not right now. Thank you for sharing this ✨
Chloe, this is so relatable. I've had three kids through all of my teaching years, and I have so many memories of sharing my mat with a little one (or two) as I taught. Now that my kids are older, they are cherished memories, and I'm so grateful for each and every one.
Big love Elena! Thank you for continuing to share your stories in such depth. Your expressions are beautiful and so familiar. THIS is all we have. 🫶🏻
thank you, Kim. just THIS.
Just tears . . . feeling grief and love, yours and mine, opening to the flow of life. Thank you Elena.
love love to you L.
Touching me and my own grief in so many ways. Thank you Elena.
thank you, Maria Elisabeth. appreciate your reading.
Wow Elena, I’ve never even had this particular experience personally, but the way your words carry, touch, and move such deep feeling… Honoring your tender heart for feeling all of it and sharing a glimpse of that journey here.
thank you, Jenni. sending my love.
I am a puddle. As I both remember a time when he was so young and you were new to me as a teacher—my own child still a baby—and the grief I fear will come sooner than I want when my own only bird leaves the nest one day. Wishing I could hold him close forever and also excited about who he will become in the world. The both ands of motherhood.
puddle. yup.
This was beautiful, profoundly loving and as a
Mama of a 16 year old boy too, you struck my heart. Thanks for your words!
savor every second...
This was so beautiful. I was so moved by the intimacy and love in this tableau you so generously and vulnerably shared with us. Your baby bird has flown the nest but he will always be tethered to your heart. I can tell you this from experience, having seen two daughters off to college. Discoveries await for you and for him. Hold tight and breathe.
love to you, Amy. thank you.
This touched my heart… such a deep beautiful love…
thank you, Caroline. so much.
The tears are flowing. I am no where near this transition, and yet I feel your grief. Motherhood seems to be filled with it because it and our children are always changing.
yes, yes, Emma. yes.
my son is 18, so tender , so off to uni in the autumn, so talk, I too sink onto his chest as he tenderly calls me ‘little mama’ and says he feels the need to look after me 🙏
the height of the humans! it's unreal.
so true , a long time ago that we stared down lovingly , now we stare UP!!
Wow beautiful essay Elena. Sending much love. The pic of you and your son reminds me of me and my son now. I have 7 years left before my oldest is 18 and my heart is on fire considering this future transition.
thank you for reading, dear Jen. x
Sad to not be able to join you live but I will be attending to my older eye patients tomorrow but l look forward to visiting the replay.