Even in my last years of high school, I imagined I was changing in ways that neither my mom nor my grandparents could see, and I wondered if they would ever see those changes for what they were, or if they would always think of me as what I'd been up to that point, before I started changing.

All through college I had the same thoughts whenever I returned for break. Could Mom see that my World Lit. class had made me more serious about life? Could Grandpa see that my Intro to Theology class was causing me to question his views of God? Could Grandma tell that my spending time with the refugees was teaching me to care more about people? I never told them. I just quietly walked through their lives, wondering if they would sense that I had changed color.

This weekend I made plans to go visit my grandparents. Stephen won't be able to come, because he has to work, and Sam probably won't come, because she has classes. But I didn't want to go by myself in January, with the weather unpredictable as it's been, so I asked Mom if she would like to come, since we didn't get to for Christmas.

Mom was wide open to the idea. I think she misses Grandma and Grandpa almost as much as I do. So we made plans, quickly and without much premeditated thought, as we always do. That's the way my mom likes things, and if it's to do something as familiar as visiting my grandparents with my mom, I like it too. (But with anyone else, oh no!! Please get me a plan!!)

Perhaps it was the suddenness of the planning that got me thinking. All day Sunday after talking with mom and setting up the trip, I was nervous.

"I'm going to be spending 6 hours in the car with my mom," I confided in Stephen while we made dinner. "I have no idea what we're going to talk about. I don't know why that's so scary to me; it never has been before."

"Is it maybe because your relationship has changed?" asked Stephen. It sounded like a cookie-cutter solution, but it rang unexpectedly true in my ears.

"Yeah," I said. "Wow. You know, when I got married, I expected my relationships with my single friends to change. But not my mom! Mom will always be my mom."

"But you're at a different place in life than her, too."

"Yeah." What an unexpected realization.

My mom and I have understood each other for so long. But now I function with a different set of rules for life than she does. It's hard to believe that we won't be able to understand each other anymore. I think the saddest part is that she'll have the hardest time with it.

See, I grieved over the loss of this understanding months ago, without fully understanding or being able to explain what I was grieving. Stephen put it to me rather harshly--that I could no longer function by the same rules for life my mother does--but it was causing big problems in our relationship at the time, and as difficult as that night was, it's probably good he said what he did. I think I knew that, too, although it's hard to tell someone "thank you, that was a good thing you did" when you're drowning in tears. :')

Getting married involves a lot of grieving. Don't forget that. The only way to get through grief is by grieving.

-Stephanie

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