I call this living on the periphery…….I struggled with this for so long! Wish I could have known your approach back then. Your words touch me in deep places I have avoided. Thank you for being vulnerable and honest! I’m sharing this with my daughter-law because it’s exactly what she is going through at the moment.
Oh Shirley, can I just tell you how much your presence here in this space means to me? With my shifting role as a parent, I’m feeling unsteady in other areas. To hear you say my words “touch you in places you’ve avoided” makes me feel more certain about my role as a writer. I adore you and deeply appreciate your hand in mine today!!!
Hugs! A year out from my son graduating HS and I’m finding the new rhythm. He’s working in Blairsville at camp this summer with his gf. He’s going good for a baby adult. He has days he can run and others he wants my help.
Today’s Ben’s heavenly bday so I take these days as the gift they are and treasure the moments I get with my son.
I love this update on your son, Tracey! Thank you for sharing the happy news about his summer job, girlfriend, and all around happiness in life. This makes me smile so big.
On a somber note, there was a chair in the area where the graduates sat for Avery's graduation with a gown and white rose in honor of the student who died in the spring. Natalie became really emotional knowing her friend never got to see her little brother graduate. Ben's light lives on in all of us, reminding us to never take one moment for granted. My hand in yours.
You and your family have been deeply in my heart these last few months. You are right to say you need to mourn. That's exactly it and it's not an aspect of grief many people in our society recognize or understand.
I've been thinking lately about the concept of space, of emptiness. And it occurred to me that we don't always need to fill the empty spaces. Sometimes the emptiness itself is an invitation for newness to emerge. I think of this time for you as an expanse. You are widening. You are extending, stretching. And maybe what you are feeling is part of the growing pains that go along with transitional seasons of life.
Sending you, Avery, and your family love from my heart to yours. 🫂❤️
"I've been thinking lately about the concept of space, of emptiness. And it occurred to me that we don't always need to fill the empty spaces. Sometimes the emptiness itself is an invitation for newness to emerge. I think of this time for you as an expanse."
I needed this, dear Jeannie. In conjunction with the sadness of the new space in my life, I have been putting ridiculous pressure on myself to fill it with big work projects that will help us pay for two daughters in college. I started frantically looking for part-time jobs... and then I realized I, too, have "graduated" in a sense and need to moment to breathe, evaluate, and then make a plan. I love how your words helped me see I don't need to fill the space quickly... that it's ok to allow things to just BE for now. Grateful.
I feel that with you, Rachel. I have the same struggle to fill the vacancies in my life. I’m glad you are honoring your needs and extending the same compassion to yourself that you give to everyone else. Sending love your way. XO
Jeanine, Love this idea of not always needing to fill the empty space. It gave me a deep breath of release! I do agree that we are not good at mourning transitions or even recognizing that it is ok to mourn many losses or transitions in our lives!!!! Thank you for the reminder.
Thanks, Melissa. I used to be a grief writer/speaker, so that’s when I learned by osmosis that most of us in the US never learned how to allow ourselves the time and space to feel whatever rises in us—especially when that includes emotions we were conditioned to believe we needed to shun, like anger or sadness or loneliness or discouragement or grief. Yet I’ve learned that grief is meant to guide us through our losses and serve in the role of companion as we navigate those losses and determine what life will now look like as it changes.
Oof. Thanks. Last night we attended our only child's first H.S. awards night (she's a sophomore). 90% of it was dedicated to senior awards and scholarships. (Graduation is tomorrow.) Afterwards I was walking the dog alone in the dark, past the home of a graduate, and it suddenly became very real that we have just 2 years left before we're doing that. I've been aware of this, of course, but the reality of the length of the past 16 years compared with how quickly the next two years are going to speed by just punched me. I've tried so hard all her life to hold her lightly, to allow her to be her own person. Yet that actually seems to be getting harder now, as she approaches adulthood and leaving home. It was good to read your reminder. I need to just revel in these years with her, and live them fully myself, while encouraging her to continue to grow into her full self. Thank you for being vulnerable with us!
Hi Jenn! Thank you for sharing... I felt every word. 🩷 There’s something about those milestone events — the awards nights, the graduations, even just walking past a neighbor’s celebration — that suddenly makes time feel so loud. That realization that the next two years will fly by differently than the last sixteen… it’s such a tender gut-punch.
I love how you said you’ve tried to “hold her lightly.” That image resonates — it’s such a gentle, courageous way to parent. And yes, it does somehow get harder the closer they get to flying. I’m so grateful you’re here, walking this bittersweet road with me. Let’s keep encouraging our kids, and ourselves, to keep growing, savoring, and stretching — even when it’s hard.
Sending you so much love in this beautiful, fleeting season. My hand in yours.
Don't rush to fill the empty spaces. I came to a realization that it is called Middle age for a reason, you just completed a marathon of your own. We are given this transition period to rest and prepare for the next thing, a whole new wonderful life. It is totally ok to take the time to relax, reflect and renew!
Since we are involved in the school system, at first I was still trying to go to all activities but then realized I did not "have to" and staying home curled up with a good book was so refreshing. Now we have entered the season of weddings and grandbabies. I am glad I took the time to give myself the energy I need for this new life!
Whew, Sheri, it's like you've been in my brain and knew EXACTLY the encouragement I needed right now. I am listening... and I am taking this beautiful advice to heart. I appreciate you!!!
Thank you for this much needed reminder. I am in the ignoring, denial and prepping for party stage of my oldest sons graduation. I know in 2 and half short months the enegy will be different here. I will sit with your words and allow them to help me process when I am ready. SIDE NOTE: I wake up to an old school alarm set to our local radio station and the song that was playing was lil boo thang and I have never heard it before and here it is in your recent post! It made me smile.
I am smiling about 1) the fact you wake up to an old school alarm and 2) that it was the song I wrote about!!! I love these divine connections.
These grad events are a LOT and while it's nice to be distracted, I feel like it hinders us from feeling all the feelings in a way. Know that I am right there beside you as you stay PRESENT for today and all the gifts it holds as you mark your son's amazing milestone.
I love love love divine connections too! I agree that the distraction is a tiny helpful, yet I can feel the need for release, contemplation, Journaling, processing, etc. To bad we can't pause time like the 1980s sitcom Out of This World!!!! Thanks for your presence it is a beautiful present! Hugs
My kids are in the thick of it, my step-son will be entering his Junior year and my daughter just completed an amazingly success Freshman year.
I often remind my kids, "I'm not raising children here; I'm raising future adults." My hope and prayer is that when my little birds fledge, they will fly, then soar. My super-attached daughter can't see a future without me being attached to her, but I often try to remind her that the entire world is available to her. She doesn't have to go to college locally, she can explore and grow, and whatever she does, she is not to let her parents hold her back because of an emotional need to keep her close.
Sigh. I think I tell her that so that I can hear it myself, and maybe I'll believe it one day. Ugh. I'm aware of the moments passing us by, the opportunities to connect and make memories.
Interesting (because this sort of lines up with Natalie's race), I signed my kids and me up for a Raider Run last weekend. We were cold and muddy, but we had a blast! Grateful for these moments, and for whatever the future holds.
Thank you for sharing your feelings. As always, you help so many others with your experiences.
Wishing all the best for Avery as she sets out on her journey of adulthood! Hugs to you, mama. ❤️
Hello dear Lydia!!! It brings me JOY to have your loving presence here in the treehouse! As always, your words, perspective touched me. I love how you’re holding both the vision of your kids as soaring, capable adults and the ache of knowing how hard it is to let go. That line — "I think I tell her that so that I can hear it myself" — wow. Isn’t that the truth for so many of us? We're speaking to our kids, but also whispering to our own hearts, trying to stay brave and open.🩵
I can just picture you all at the Raider Run — cold, muddy, and in it together. What a perfect metaphor for this stage of life. Thank you for cheering on Avery’s next chapter with such generosity. Sending hugs right back to you, dear friend, as we keep finding our way through this beautiful, bittersweet season.
PS You'll appreciate this -- the dog shelter where I volunteer has a vet clinic where they keep the kittens until they are old enough to be adopted. Today, Avery and I are going to play with them!!!!
The funny thing is, I signed us up for the run because of how you put it, so we could do it together. But my step-son took off right out of the gate and left my daughter and me in his wake. I was tempted to be grumpy about that, but then decided against it. Only after reading your comment did I realize that this was an example of me not holding him back from "soaring" as he saw fit. When Z and I emerged from the woods some time after B did, he was there to cheer us on the for the final obstacles. It truly was a wonderful experience, but I could have ruined it by trying to control the outcome. B had a blast, and so did Z and I, and we experienced it together AND separate! Such is life, no? ❤️
Dear Rachel- my youngest is about to graduate high school next week and your writing about Avery’s graduation and this essay about the sidelines are really helping me:) I remember when I was on a college tour with my oldest feeling shaky about having my first baby fly the best and I commented on one of your posts about it and you replied and it gave me comfort in that moment. Thank you fir sharing your stories with us and for your gift to put into words what we are feeling💕💕
Oh wow! Kim, thank you for this beautiful connection. I love knowing that we've been walking alongside each other over the years in these important life moments. And now here you are, getting ready to launch your youngest. What a full-circle moment — and what a wave of emotions that must bring.
I’m honored to continue walking alongside you in this season. Sending you so much love and strength as you celebrate all that has been and all that’s still to come. You’re doing beautifully! My hand in yours.
so, so beautiful. It made me a bit sad too because not every parent-child relationship is so deep and tightly woven. I have friends who struggle horribly with their 15yr old, 13yr young ones. Who did ‘everything right’, more than right and feel like having failed their children. But your words speak on a very deep level to all loving parents and your daughter will always know that she was and will forever be loved by you. It leaves inedible traces in her soul. Be strong and try to enjoy the ‘free time’ you have now.
Thank you dear Kiki. I so appreciate the compassion you have for parents who are struggling -- who wonder what they did "wrong". I was that parent four years ago -- and I have written quite a bit about those feelings and what helped (and what didn't help). I am currently helping two friends who find themselves in this painful place. To be the support person I needed then has been healing for me too. Thank you for raising awareness with your loving comment.
Perspective from a different stage in life. I am an older (76) widow and mom of a daughter (44) with disabilities. Her disabilities are not severe/total care, she needs about the same supervision and care as a typical 10- to 12-year-old. There is a perpetual grief cycle that parents of kids/adults with disabilities experience. Just about the time you think you've grieved all the missed milestones and the times when your child is not doing the things your friends' kids are doing (summer softball, dance recitals, slumber parties, graduation parties, college, marriage, babies, etc.) something new pops up. I recently had a bit of a health scare -- not sure yet the outcome -- and realized that my determination to "stay healthy until my daughter is old enough to go to the nursing home with me" may not be logical. We do not have family who can/are willing to take on the day-to-day care for my daughter and we live in a small town where there are not services like group homes. I feel like I hit the grief wall hard this past week and in talking with a friend, I realized that I am definitely not alone. My friend worked in disability services for many years and said, "With the exception of only a few, most parents of grown children with disabilities pray that they will outlive their kids." Wow! Gut-wrenching reality check -- and one I'd not realized I'd have to face. I'm not so worried about the "business" part of my daughter's future -- I think that is handled. It is the day-to-day care. I'm back to square one in evaluating possibilities and plans. It is a old/new journey and I'm having to draw a new map. In recent years, your phrase, "Only Love Today" has been my mantra when the going was rough -- and it is pulling me through this grief time. Forty-three years ago, a neurologist told us that our daughter would not walk, talk or learn and we should find an institution where she could be cared for and walk away. There was too much love in that beautiful little girl to give up on her! Now she not only walks and talks, she reads, she uses an IPad, she knows people and has friends all over town, she bowls with a ladies bowling league, she volunteers at the local food pantry and delivers meals for homebound seniors (someone has to drive her), she participates on our local adult Special Olympics team and she is a sweet, loving young woman. Long before I read your book or followed you on social media, I somehow knew that it just takes "Only Love Today" to make a difference.
Hello dear Nancy! What a treat to have your presence in the treehouse! There are certain names I know by heart -- and yours is one of them. I see "Nancy Pedro" and I instantly breathe. Thank you for your faithful presence and support all these years.
I deeply appreciate you sharing such a deeply personal and powerful perspective. Your words stopped me in my tracks — especially the part about having to draw a new map, even after so many years of loving and navigating alongside your daughter. That image — of an “old/new journey” — captures something so true about this life, particularly for parents and caregivers whose paths don't follow predictable milestones.
Your honesty about the grief that revisits in waves is something I know many of our community members will relate to, whether they are parenting a child with disabilities, caring for aging loved ones, or simply wrestling with uncertain futures. And that line from your friend — “most parents of grown children with disabilities pray that they will outlive their kids” — is indeed a gut punch. It’s a reality that is rarely spoken aloud, yet it carries the weight of so many unspoken fears and hopes.
Thank you for allowing us to see this radiant picture of your daughter’s life: the bowling league, the iPad, the food pantry, the friendships. What a beautiful testament to love, persistence, and seeing possibility where others might not. As a result, your daughter is not just thriving in her own right, but contributing and connecting in ways that echo far beyond your small town.
To know that the words “Only Love Today” have become a grounding mantra for you humbles me more than I can say. You’ve been living that truth long before it had a name in my writing. Your story reminds me — and all of us — what love can grow when we stay close to it. My hand in yours.
Thank you, Rachel. Your words always give me a lift -- sometimes when this journey seems most lonely your post or your response is exactly what is needed to just breathe and keep on loving.
Nancy, I appreciate this post and sharing your story with us. My grandmother was told the same thing when my uncle was born. Beyond grateful that she did not listen and our family was blessed to have Uncle Jerry in our lives. Only Love Today is an amazing, strong and beautiful mantra to have in our lives. Your daughter sounds like she is leaving positive interactions wherever she goes! What a beautiful life you have provided for her. Sending a hug to both of you.
Rachel, you’ve been a wayshower for me for so many years. I’m grateful you exist in this world.
Thank you for reminding me today that “THE LOVE is constant — on that we can rely, it will never falter, and it will always be there. Now we can breathe when we remember that.”
I am processing through all the emotions of a recent psychological evaluation my 12 year-old daughter completed with a diagnosis that knocked me off kilter. How will she navigate the world with the weight of this diagnosis on her shoulders for her entire life? On top of that, we lost my mother-in-law (my daughter’s beloved Gma Mary) in November, so there’s sadness about entering into summer without her.
Through it all, LOVE remains. It’s a constant companion. I am exhaling and remembering that grief is only possible in spaces where love exists.
You are carrying so much, dear Christy. I don’t know if this will help, but I’ve found it remarkable to think back on the medical obstacles Avery overcame and how they led to her decision to become a nurse. She often says she wants to be the medical professional she needed when she was young. I hope your daughter finds lifelines along her journey — and where they are missing, may she find abilities she didn’t know she had.
Sending extra love as you navigate summer without your beloved Mary… 🌼
Thank you, Rachel. And I wish your beautiful Avery all the best on her journey to college and life beyond. Thank you for reminding these challenges our sweet ones face also plant the seeds of resilience. Sending return love your way this graduation season!
I can so relate to your feelings. I especially remember driving my oldest over the mountains at that age. We were listening to oldies. She was in the backseat bopping along to the tunes, the tunes I listened to at her age. I was trying not to bawl out loud. It's a hard passage. And. A bit of hope to tide you over. My daughters are now 39 and 41 and I am still such a big part of their life. Sometimes they are fussing over me and accepting their role in a new sandwich generation. Sometimes they're going through a crisis and need their mama. Sometimes we're just cracking up over the antics of their kids or taking a trip together. The time right after high school when they were off doing their own thing was the hardest. But they came back around before too long.
Thank you again for sharing your feelings and helping me feel mine. This story brought me back several years to when my oldest son- who is one of my best friends- went away to college. Preparing for his leaving I wore a “Live in the Moment” bracelet to remind myself not to mourn his departure when he was still here. And I made a graduation playlist with both happy and sad songs to feel all my feelings - “There goes my Life” by Kenny Chesney is a real tear jerker that I love.
It helped me to plan out when I would be seeing him (which thankfully was quite often). He has now graduated from Medical School and is back home for his pediatric residency in our city 💙
* I really appreciated how you acknowledge that glass full fortitudes like “Look on the bright side…” are not always welcomed
** I also love your eclectic musical taste that you share - I love Boo Thang, started listening to Noah Kahan after your suggestion, and I believe you even share “Life on Earth” by Snow Patrol which is my song I listened to now when I’m frustrated.
Oh, Rachel, this is so beautiful- you know how it feels when you get to actually be there for someone? Thanks for giving me that gift.
Here’s what I pulled from this beautiful writing- and I think you hit the nail on the head when you said this- the reason that this next stage is SO wonderful and fun, and we will remember that again here soon(I thought I’d remember it after I was in mourning before Lindy left and then it was SO much fun from day ONE! But I’m right back in that mourning space with Addie- but I see the light- I know there is light!!) I digressed, sorry- the reason is that point you made- they no longer NEED us, but they WANT us!! How fun is that!?! WHAT a LIFE!! SO happy to share this time with you! We will always have this! 💜💜💜 Love you!!
I call this living on the periphery…….I struggled with this for so long! Wish I could have known your approach back then. Your words touch me in deep places I have avoided. Thank you for being vulnerable and honest! I’m sharing this with my daughter-law because it’s exactly what she is going through at the moment.
Oh Shirley, can I just tell you how much your presence here in this space means to me? With my shifting role as a parent, I’m feeling unsteady in other areas. To hear you say my words “touch you in places you’ve avoided” makes me feel more certain about my role as a writer. I adore you and deeply appreciate your hand in mine today!!!
I feel the same!!
I am sitting in the exact same post-graduation space. Thank you for so vulnerably sharing so that others may not feel so alone. ❤️
This gives me comfort. We are not alone. My hand in yours, dear Wendy.
Hugs! A year out from my son graduating HS and I’m finding the new rhythm. He’s working in Blairsville at camp this summer with his gf. He’s going good for a baby adult. He has days he can run and others he wants my help.
Today’s Ben’s heavenly bday so I take these days as the gift they are and treasure the moments I get with my son.
I love this update on your son, Tracey! Thank you for sharing the happy news about his summer job, girlfriend, and all around happiness in life. This makes me smile so big.
On a somber note, there was a chair in the area where the graduates sat for Avery's graduation with a gown and white rose in honor of the student who died in the spring. Natalie became really emotional knowing her friend never got to see her little brother graduate. Ben's light lives on in all of us, reminding us to never take one moment for granted. My hand in yours.
Rachel,
You and your family have been deeply in my heart these last few months. You are right to say you need to mourn. That's exactly it and it's not an aspect of grief many people in our society recognize or understand.
I've been thinking lately about the concept of space, of emptiness. And it occurred to me that we don't always need to fill the empty spaces. Sometimes the emptiness itself is an invitation for newness to emerge. I think of this time for you as an expanse. You are widening. You are extending, stretching. And maybe what you are feeling is part of the growing pains that go along with transitional seasons of life.
Sending you, Avery, and your family love from my heart to yours. 🫂❤️
"I've been thinking lately about the concept of space, of emptiness. And it occurred to me that we don't always need to fill the empty spaces. Sometimes the emptiness itself is an invitation for newness to emerge. I think of this time for you as an expanse."
I needed this, dear Jeannie. In conjunction with the sadness of the new space in my life, I have been putting ridiculous pressure on myself to fill it with big work projects that will help us pay for two daughters in college. I started frantically looking for part-time jobs... and then I realized I, too, have "graduated" in a sense and need to moment to breathe, evaluate, and then make a plan. I love how your words helped me see I don't need to fill the space quickly... that it's ok to allow things to just BE for now. Grateful.
I feel that with you, Rachel. I have the same struggle to fill the vacancies in my life. I’m glad you are honoring your needs and extending the same compassion to yourself that you give to everyone else. Sending love your way. XO
🩷🩷🩷
Jeanine, Love this idea of not always needing to fill the empty space. It gave me a deep breath of release! I do agree that we are not good at mourning transitions or even recognizing that it is ok to mourn many losses or transitions in our lives!!!! Thank you for the reminder.
Thanks, Melissa. I used to be a grief writer/speaker, so that’s when I learned by osmosis that most of us in the US never learned how to allow ourselves the time and space to feel whatever rises in us—especially when that includes emotions we were conditioned to believe we needed to shun, like anger or sadness or loneliness or discouragement or grief. Yet I’ve learned that grief is meant to guide us through our losses and serve in the role of companion as we navigate those losses and determine what life will now look like as it changes.
I tried to say about the same thing but you said it so much more eloquently. I am so impressed with people like you and Rachel who can write so well!
Wow, thanks, Sheri. I appreciate that affirmation so much! :)
Oof. Thanks. Last night we attended our only child's first H.S. awards night (she's a sophomore). 90% of it was dedicated to senior awards and scholarships. (Graduation is tomorrow.) Afterwards I was walking the dog alone in the dark, past the home of a graduate, and it suddenly became very real that we have just 2 years left before we're doing that. I've been aware of this, of course, but the reality of the length of the past 16 years compared with how quickly the next two years are going to speed by just punched me. I've tried so hard all her life to hold her lightly, to allow her to be her own person. Yet that actually seems to be getting harder now, as she approaches adulthood and leaving home. It was good to read your reminder. I need to just revel in these years with her, and live them fully myself, while encouraging her to continue to grow into her full self. Thank you for being vulnerable with us!
Hi Jenn! Thank you for sharing... I felt every word. 🩷 There’s something about those milestone events — the awards nights, the graduations, even just walking past a neighbor’s celebration — that suddenly makes time feel so loud. That realization that the next two years will fly by differently than the last sixteen… it’s such a tender gut-punch.
I love how you said you’ve tried to “hold her lightly.” That image resonates — it’s such a gentle, courageous way to parent. And yes, it does somehow get harder the closer they get to flying. I’m so grateful you’re here, walking this bittersweet road with me. Let’s keep encouraging our kids, and ourselves, to keep growing, savoring, and stretching — even when it’s hard.
Sending you so much love in this beautiful, fleeting season. My hand in yours.
Don't rush to fill the empty spaces. I came to a realization that it is called Middle age for a reason, you just completed a marathon of your own. We are given this transition period to rest and prepare for the next thing, a whole new wonderful life. It is totally ok to take the time to relax, reflect and renew!
Since we are involved in the school system, at first I was still trying to go to all activities but then realized I did not "have to" and staying home curled up with a good book was so refreshing. Now we have entered the season of weddings and grandbabies. I am glad I took the time to give myself the energy I need for this new life!
Whew, Sheri, it's like you've been in my brain and knew EXACTLY the encouragement I needed right now. I am listening... and I am taking this beautiful advice to heart. I appreciate you!!!
Thank you for this much needed reminder. I am in the ignoring, denial and prepping for party stage of my oldest sons graduation. I know in 2 and half short months the enegy will be different here. I will sit with your words and allow them to help me process when I am ready. SIDE NOTE: I wake up to an old school alarm set to our local radio station and the song that was playing was lil boo thang and I have never heard it before and here it is in your recent post! It made me smile.
I am smiling about 1) the fact you wake up to an old school alarm and 2) that it was the song I wrote about!!! I love these divine connections.
These grad events are a LOT and while it's nice to be distracted, I feel like it hinders us from feeling all the feelings in a way. Know that I am right there beside you as you stay PRESENT for today and all the gifts it holds as you mark your son's amazing milestone.
I love love love divine connections too! I agree that the distraction is a tiny helpful, yet I can feel the need for release, contemplation, Journaling, processing, etc. To bad we can't pause time like the 1980s sitcom Out of This World!!!! Thanks for your presence it is a beautiful present! Hugs
🤝🩷
My kids are in the thick of it, my step-son will be entering his Junior year and my daughter just completed an amazingly success Freshman year.
I often remind my kids, "I'm not raising children here; I'm raising future adults." My hope and prayer is that when my little birds fledge, they will fly, then soar. My super-attached daughter can't see a future without me being attached to her, but I often try to remind her that the entire world is available to her. She doesn't have to go to college locally, she can explore and grow, and whatever she does, she is not to let her parents hold her back because of an emotional need to keep her close.
Sigh. I think I tell her that so that I can hear it myself, and maybe I'll believe it one day. Ugh. I'm aware of the moments passing us by, the opportunities to connect and make memories.
Interesting (because this sort of lines up with Natalie's race), I signed my kids and me up for a Raider Run last weekend. We were cold and muddy, but we had a blast! Grateful for these moments, and for whatever the future holds.
Thank you for sharing your feelings. As always, you help so many others with your experiences.
Wishing all the best for Avery as she sets out on her journey of adulthood! Hugs to you, mama. ❤️
Hello dear Lydia!!! It brings me JOY to have your loving presence here in the treehouse! As always, your words, perspective touched me. I love how you’re holding both the vision of your kids as soaring, capable adults and the ache of knowing how hard it is to let go. That line — "I think I tell her that so that I can hear it myself" — wow. Isn’t that the truth for so many of us? We're speaking to our kids, but also whispering to our own hearts, trying to stay brave and open.🩵
I can just picture you all at the Raider Run — cold, muddy, and in it together. What a perfect metaphor for this stage of life. Thank you for cheering on Avery’s next chapter with such generosity. Sending hugs right back to you, dear friend, as we keep finding our way through this beautiful, bittersweet season.
PS You'll appreciate this -- the dog shelter where I volunteer has a vet clinic where they keep the kittens until they are old enough to be adopted. Today, Avery and I are going to play with them!!!!
The funny thing is, I signed us up for the run because of how you put it, so we could do it together. But my step-son took off right out of the gate and left my daughter and me in his wake. I was tempted to be grumpy about that, but then decided against it. Only after reading your comment did I realize that this was an example of me not holding him back from "soaring" as he saw fit. When Z and I emerged from the woods some time after B did, he was there to cheer us on the for the final obstacles. It truly was a wonderful experience, but I could have ruined it by trying to control the outcome. B had a blast, and so did Z and I, and we experienced it together AND separate! Such is life, no? ❤️
Dear Rachel- my youngest is about to graduate high school next week and your writing about Avery’s graduation and this essay about the sidelines are really helping me:) I remember when I was on a college tour with my oldest feeling shaky about having my first baby fly the best and I commented on one of your posts about it and you replied and it gave me comfort in that moment. Thank you fir sharing your stories with us and for your gift to put into words what we are feeling💕💕
Oh wow! Kim, thank you for this beautiful connection. I love knowing that we've been walking alongside each other over the years in these important life moments. And now here you are, getting ready to launch your youngest. What a full-circle moment — and what a wave of emotions that must bring.
I’m honored to continue walking alongside you in this season. Sending you so much love and strength as you celebrate all that has been and all that’s still to come. You’re doing beautifully! My hand in yours.
so, so beautiful. It made me a bit sad too because not every parent-child relationship is so deep and tightly woven. I have friends who struggle horribly with their 15yr old, 13yr young ones. Who did ‘everything right’, more than right and feel like having failed their children. But your words speak on a very deep level to all loving parents and your daughter will always know that she was and will forever be loved by you. It leaves inedible traces in her soul. Be strong and try to enjoy the ‘free time’ you have now.
Thank you dear Kiki. I so appreciate the compassion you have for parents who are struggling -- who wonder what they did "wrong". I was that parent four years ago -- and I have written quite a bit about those feelings and what helped (and what didn't help). I am currently helping two friends who find themselves in this painful place. To be the support person I needed then has been healing for me too. Thank you for raising awareness with your loving comment.
Beautiful. Just beautiful 💕
Hello, lovely Clare! It always makes my day to "see" you!!!
Gah, thank you my friend 💕💕
Perspective from a different stage in life. I am an older (76) widow and mom of a daughter (44) with disabilities. Her disabilities are not severe/total care, she needs about the same supervision and care as a typical 10- to 12-year-old. There is a perpetual grief cycle that parents of kids/adults with disabilities experience. Just about the time you think you've grieved all the missed milestones and the times when your child is not doing the things your friends' kids are doing (summer softball, dance recitals, slumber parties, graduation parties, college, marriage, babies, etc.) something new pops up. I recently had a bit of a health scare -- not sure yet the outcome -- and realized that my determination to "stay healthy until my daughter is old enough to go to the nursing home with me" may not be logical. We do not have family who can/are willing to take on the day-to-day care for my daughter and we live in a small town where there are not services like group homes. I feel like I hit the grief wall hard this past week and in talking with a friend, I realized that I am definitely not alone. My friend worked in disability services for many years and said, "With the exception of only a few, most parents of grown children with disabilities pray that they will outlive their kids." Wow! Gut-wrenching reality check -- and one I'd not realized I'd have to face. I'm not so worried about the "business" part of my daughter's future -- I think that is handled. It is the day-to-day care. I'm back to square one in evaluating possibilities and plans. It is a old/new journey and I'm having to draw a new map. In recent years, your phrase, "Only Love Today" has been my mantra when the going was rough -- and it is pulling me through this grief time. Forty-three years ago, a neurologist told us that our daughter would not walk, talk or learn and we should find an institution where she could be cared for and walk away. There was too much love in that beautiful little girl to give up on her! Now she not only walks and talks, she reads, she uses an IPad, she knows people and has friends all over town, she bowls with a ladies bowling league, she volunteers at the local food pantry and delivers meals for homebound seniors (someone has to drive her), she participates on our local adult Special Olympics team and she is a sweet, loving young woman. Long before I read your book or followed you on social media, I somehow knew that it just takes "Only Love Today" to make a difference.
Hello dear Nancy! What a treat to have your presence in the treehouse! There are certain names I know by heart -- and yours is one of them. I see "Nancy Pedro" and I instantly breathe. Thank you for your faithful presence and support all these years.
I deeply appreciate you sharing such a deeply personal and powerful perspective. Your words stopped me in my tracks — especially the part about having to draw a new map, even after so many years of loving and navigating alongside your daughter. That image — of an “old/new journey” — captures something so true about this life, particularly for parents and caregivers whose paths don't follow predictable milestones.
Your honesty about the grief that revisits in waves is something I know many of our community members will relate to, whether they are parenting a child with disabilities, caring for aging loved ones, or simply wrestling with uncertain futures. And that line from your friend — “most parents of grown children with disabilities pray that they will outlive their kids” — is indeed a gut punch. It’s a reality that is rarely spoken aloud, yet it carries the weight of so many unspoken fears and hopes.
Thank you for allowing us to see this radiant picture of your daughter’s life: the bowling league, the iPad, the food pantry, the friendships. What a beautiful testament to love, persistence, and seeing possibility where others might not. As a result, your daughter is not just thriving in her own right, but contributing and connecting in ways that echo far beyond your small town.
To know that the words “Only Love Today” have become a grounding mantra for you humbles me more than I can say. You’ve been living that truth long before it had a name in my writing. Your story reminds me — and all of us — what love can grow when we stay close to it. My hand in yours.
Thank you, Rachel. Your words always give me a lift -- sometimes when this journey seems most lonely your post or your response is exactly what is needed to just breathe and keep on loving.
Nancy, I appreciate this post and sharing your story with us. My grandmother was told the same thing when my uncle was born. Beyond grateful that she did not listen and our family was blessed to have Uncle Jerry in our lives. Only Love Today is an amazing, strong and beautiful mantra to have in our lives. Your daughter sounds like she is leaving positive interactions wherever she goes! What a beautiful life you have provided for her. Sending a hug to both of you.
Thank you, Melissa. Special people seem to add so many blessings and so much richness to our lives.
Rachel, you’ve been a wayshower for me for so many years. I’m grateful you exist in this world.
Thank you for reminding me today that “THE LOVE is constant — on that we can rely, it will never falter, and it will always be there. Now we can breathe when we remember that.”
I am processing through all the emotions of a recent psychological evaluation my 12 year-old daughter completed with a diagnosis that knocked me off kilter. How will she navigate the world with the weight of this diagnosis on her shoulders for her entire life? On top of that, we lost my mother-in-law (my daughter’s beloved Gma Mary) in November, so there’s sadness about entering into summer without her.
Through it all, LOVE remains. It’s a constant companion. I am exhaling and remembering that grief is only possible in spaces where love exists.
You are carrying so much, dear Christy. I don’t know if this will help, but I’ve found it remarkable to think back on the medical obstacles Avery overcame and how they led to her decision to become a nurse. She often says she wants to be the medical professional she needed when she was young. I hope your daughter finds lifelines along her journey — and where they are missing, may she find abilities she didn’t know she had.
Sending extra love as you navigate summer without your beloved Mary… 🌼
My hand in yours.
Thank you, Rachel. And I wish your beautiful Avery all the best on her journey to college and life beyond. Thank you for reminding these challenges our sweet ones face also plant the seeds of resilience. Sending return love your way this graduation season!
I can so relate to your feelings. I especially remember driving my oldest over the mountains at that age. We were listening to oldies. She was in the backseat bopping along to the tunes, the tunes I listened to at her age. I was trying not to bawl out loud. It's a hard passage. And. A bit of hope to tide you over. My daughters are now 39 and 41 and I am still such a big part of their life. Sometimes they are fussing over me and accepting their role in a new sandwich generation. Sometimes they're going through a crisis and need their mama. Sometimes we're just cracking up over the antics of their kids or taking a trip together. The time right after high school when they were off doing their own thing was the hardest. But they came back around before too long.
Thank you again for sharing your feelings and helping me feel mine. This story brought me back several years to when my oldest son- who is one of my best friends- went away to college. Preparing for his leaving I wore a “Live in the Moment” bracelet to remind myself not to mourn his departure when he was still here. And I made a graduation playlist with both happy and sad songs to feel all my feelings - “There goes my Life” by Kenny Chesney is a real tear jerker that I love.
It helped me to plan out when I would be seeing him (which thankfully was quite often). He has now graduated from Medical School and is back home for his pediatric residency in our city 💙
* I really appreciated how you acknowledge that glass full fortitudes like “Look on the bright side…” are not always welcomed
** I also love your eclectic musical taste that you share - I love Boo Thang, started listening to Noah Kahan after your suggestion, and I believe you even share “Life on Earth” by Snow Patrol which is my song I listened to now when I’m frustrated.
*** Thank you!
Oh, Rachel, this is so beautiful- you know how it feels when you get to actually be there for someone? Thanks for giving me that gift.
Here’s what I pulled from this beautiful writing- and I think you hit the nail on the head when you said this- the reason that this next stage is SO wonderful and fun, and we will remember that again here soon(I thought I’d remember it after I was in mourning before Lindy left and then it was SO much fun from day ONE! But I’m right back in that mourning space with Addie- but I see the light- I know there is light!!) I digressed, sorry- the reason is that point you made- they no longer NEED us, but they WANT us!! How fun is that!?! WHAT a LIFE!! SO happy to share this time with you! We will always have this! 💜💜💜 Love you!!