Anjana: On being a mother
Being a mother is the easiest and the most difficult thing to be. I cannot describe the fierce love and protectiveness that came over me from the moment I knew I was pregnant. When my children were young, the challenges lay in the never-ending physical chores of bathing, feeding, driving, tantrums, checking homework, etc., but the joys came fast too with hugs and kisses. I marveled at how these beautiful children were mine. As they grew older, they tested my patience and their limits as they spread their wings. I worried incessantly about them when they learned to drive, went to hang with friends, and of course when they inevitably went away to college. But the joys multiplied as well – when I saw their pride in their growth and independence which only comes from slowly letting go and trusting their judgment. I now marvel as they become their own person in mind and spirit. My youngest is off to college this year and my oldest is getting married to a wonderful young woman. Our family continues to grow. I will now have 4 children. Being a mother now requires me to play a different role. As I learn to navigate this ever-evolving one, I find joy in new ways I never thought possible. The fierce love and protectiveness is still there but the trust and confidence that my mother and grandmother had in me gives me the courage to pass the same on to my children.
Snigdha: On becoming irrelevant
I am an intentional mother. For example, I am no master chef, but I will make every attempt to feed my children fresh food. Indian cooking can quickly become an involved process, so shortcuts – adding a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables wherever I can – are inevitable. And now that one of my boys is an emerging foodie, I have begun showing them how to put together a healthful meal that they will enjoy.
The intent of mothering, for me, is to make myself irrelevant to their survival with every passing day. I hope for them to be independent, self-reliant, swavalambi— if I’m no longer in their world, will they be able to survive, will they flourish, will they know what to do? As a mother, I believe my job is to give them all my knowledge, all the tricks of the trade that I know, even that favorite recipe (including the one with my secret sauce), so they won’t need me anymore.
Easier said than done. Once a mother, always a mother. I know that I will carry a knot of worry soaked in love in my gut for as long as I live. It’s a daily battle between the heart wanting them to need me, always wanting to hug and cuddle, to want me to make that favorite curry, or to help with a difficult project, and the head telling me they shouldn’t need me at all, not even for unconditional love, especially not for that favorite dish.
I let the head win. Or try.
Meera: On being an empty nester
It came so much faster than expected. Even as they grew I cherished the ordinary, the silly, the exasperating, and the special. No one tells you going from wobbly first steps to driving cross-country happens in the blink of an eye. The toughest lesson you learn as an empty nester is learning to let go and mean it. The reward is that it’s oddly liberating. Because when they leave – no strings attached – it brings them back – not just for your custom omelets, free laundry, and hugs, but because they just want to hang. Walk the dog with you. Do long drives together. Share their music. You become their sounding board as they, inexplicably, become yours. And you realize this parenting gig, empty nester or not, still has legs – except now the kids share the driving.
Nandita: On learning everyday
Being a mother has been a constant process of learning. Learning to take care of the physical needs of an infant and then the needs of two growing children; for the adult learner in me, positive reinforcement was boundless in the form of hugs, kisses, and pure love.
For someone who grew up as a single child, being the referee as they fought over trivialities was certainly new territory. Today, my children, an adult, and a teen, can sassily say to me, “Oh, it’s called sibling rivalry. You wouldn’t know about it.” They do have that advantage over me.
With personalities that are polar opposites, it was also about learning to handle their different temperaments, and consciously applying the lessons learned along the way so as not to repeat the mistakes I made.
With teenage, it was learning to control my temper when I was being pushed to the limits; to pick and choose my battles to win the war. That’s a lesson I’m still learning. As an immigrant mother, the generational wisdom garnered from family and elders in India sometimes seems insufficient while raising my children in this ethnically and racially diverse society.
As they get ready to fly, it’s learning to let go, relax the curfew, trust, and not worry too much when they are out late occasionally. This is a tough one, but I’m learning to “chill”. Right now, I am learning to sit in the backseat of the car and enjoy the ride while my children take the wheel. The journey so far has been pure, unadulterated joy. I’m counting my blessings; they are countless.