My heart is full as I say farewell to an old friend, someone I would catch up with every couple of weeks to muse and ponder and ruminate on my life raising three children in Plainsboro.
I am not the same person I was when I started. I was only a few years out of my 30s back then. Now I’m looking at 60 in just a couple of years. It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that my kids have gone from 12, 9 and 4, to 27, 24 and 19. But they have, and now it’s time to hang up the hat.
My family has grown up in these pages. I am grateful to have been able to merge two of my greatest joys—raising my children and writing—in this column. It is because of you—my readers and friends—that I have been able to do this. There are others to thank, of course, especially Rich Rein—the writer, newsman, entrepreneur and friend who started The News and U.S. 1 Newspaper, and then gave this mom this column at a time in her life when she not only craved the creative outlet but actually needed it to save her very sanity—writing as therapy.
Thank you to the coaches, teachers, tutors, teammates—everyone who has blessed the lives of my children in some way with the Midas touch and made them better people.
My friends and fellow suburban moms gave me laughter and support and stories galore to help fill my pages. Thank you, too, to my canine children, the long gone but never forgotten and always cherished Paka, and our current loves Chloe, Brady and Bodhi, who grace me with unconditional love and the literal warm and fuzzies.
At the center of everything are my husband and our children, without whom my identity as the Suburban Mom could not exist. They have given me endless fodder for my writing and filled my days with adventure and light. I love you and am grateful for you.
And then, one day, all too quickly, the stories changed. My babies grew up. They moved to other states and traveled around the world and did exactly what we raised them to do—become independent and driven and architects of their lives and futures. It’s a bittersweet moment when the training wheels come off and you see them fly down the street—joyful abandon for them—pride and trepidation for you.
Though I will always be their mother, my attention now has been pulled in new and different directions, commanding my time and devotion.
My life has come full circle and the people who once took care of me now need me to take care of them. The suburban mom has shifted her focus to suburban daughter as I watch over my parents in the winter of their years.
I am proud of the young adults my children have become. I am excited to watch them pursue their passions and dreams and write these next chapters of their lives.
Katie, Molly and Will, we have always told you that you can be anything and do anything you wish. So reach big, always. And know that we have your back and you have our love.
I’m going to keep this short and sweet. It’s been an honor. This column has been one of the best things in my life and always will be. I have loved writing my stories and sharing yours and walking this journey together, truly one of life’s greatest—the privilege of being a mom and living out loud in a community as wonderful as ours. Could anyone be so lucky? Thank you.