Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Remember the great Alexander Pope poem about the man of the couple who roams around and his lady is the fixed point of the compass for him to come home to?  Irritating but beautiful.  Well, I kind of feel like the fixed point mother whose kids and grandkids are all over the map, traveling, and I have this umbilical cord type of connection to each that causes tugs and almost tears and a bit of heartache.  One of my best friends calls me "tribal", and I believe I accept that label.  It feels like my job to swing them home, connect (internet, instagram, IPhotos) and make sure no connection gets "lost".  I read this morning about the couple in El Paso, only married a year, who protected each other and their baby.  He covered her body, she covered the baby and both died but their son lived.  That's what parenting feels like, and even though my kids are parents, it's hard to let go.  The protective instinct is fierce.  It may be irrational at this point for me, but it's burning there in the center of my heart.  I recognize it.