The words below were posted on Facebook by a “Digital Creator,” and copied to a few different sites.  I don’t know who the actual author is, but I want to share them here because I FEEL these words about grown children.

I worked hard to teach my 3 kids to be independent and self-reliant, to be contributors in the world, to be intelligent problem solvers.  I taught them to be successful and strong.  They are.  No one then told me how far from me they would fly.  No one told me how hard this phase of life without them would be.  I am grateful that I was also independent and strong and that I am able to create my own happiness.  But I still miss their sweaty little hands in mine and their questions and wonderings.  I cannot call them back.

No one warns you about the other kind of silence that comes with grown children…

Not the silence in the house, but the one that quietly rests in your heart.

When they stop asking you for direction,

when they no longer seek your advice,

when they choose to walk their path — without you.

And you laugh, of course.

Because it was your dream — to see them strong and free.

But inside… something bends.

Being the mother of adults is a new lesson in love.

It means holding your tongue even when you see mistakes.

It means stopping your hand from dialing when they don’t respond.

It means learning to love from a distance.

It is standing aside, your hands calm,

but your heart restless.

Sometimes they share something with you… but often they don’t.

And you act as though it doesn’t wound you.

But it does.

It hurts not being the center of their world anymore.

It hurts realizing your presence means something different now.

And still, you are there.

You serve their favorite meal when they visit.

You treasure the photos from their childhood.

Each evening you pray for them, believing it is enough to guard them.

For a mother’s heart never stops loving.

It only learns to do so differently.

From the shadows.

From the silence.

From prayer.

This is a kind of love no one notices,

yet it carries the world.

To be the mother of an adult child is to accept you are no longer their center…

and still to love them as if you were.

Because there is a love that never ends — it simply learns to wait. In silence.