Parenting Without My Parents

When my kids were young, my parents were my rock. With triplets to care for, the days were long, chaotic, and often overwhelming. But my parents were always there—ready to lend a hand, share a laugh, or offer a reassuring word when I felt like I was in over my head.

They adored my kids, and my kids adored them right back. My parents didn’t just help me raise them; they became an integral part of their lives. From changing diapers to cheering at school events, they poured so much love into my children. They were the extra set of hands I desperately needed and the unwavering support that kept me going.

I’ll never forget the way my dad’s face lit up when he walked through the door and saw three toddlers barreling toward him. Or how my mom would sit with them for hours, reading stories, singing songs, or simply soaking in the joy of their little voices. Those moments were pure magic, not just for my kids, but for me.

Now, with my children grown and stepping into adulthood, I find myself missing my parents in a way I never could have imagined. It’s not that parenting has stopped—it’s just shifted. The challenges are different now, but the need for their guidance feels just as strong.

As my kids move out and start their own lives, I see things so clearly now—things I didn’t fully understand when I was younger. Letting g

o is hard. Watching your children grow and move on is beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. I think about how my parents must have felt when I was doing the same.

I wish I could pick up the phone and talk to them about this transition. I want to ask them, How did you let go without falling apart? How did you balance pride in your children’s independence with the ache of not seeing them every day? How did you find peace in the quiet house after years of joyful chaos?

More than anything, I miss sharing my kids’ lives with them. I know how much they would love hearing about their latest adventures, accomplishments, and even the little, everyday details. They would be so proud of who my children are becoming—of the strength, kindness, and resilience they carry.

There are so many times I catch myself thinking, Mom and Dad would have loved this. They would have celebrated every victory, laughed at every funny story, and given the kind of advice that only comes from decades of love and experience.

And while I can’t call them or sit across from them at the kitchen table anymore, I carry their lessons with me. I hear my mom’s voice in my head when I’m offering comfort, her patience guiding me when I feel unsure. I feel my dad’s quiet strength when I’m trying to let go and trust my kids to navigate their own paths.

Parenting without my parents is one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced. I still need their wisdom, their reassurance, their presence. But as much as I miss them, I know they gave me everything I need to carry forward.

They taught me how to love fiercely and unconditionally, how to show up for the people who matter, and how to celebrate the small joys in life. They showed me what it means to be a parent—and now, a grandparent in spirit—to the children they helped raise.

If they could see me now, I hope they’d be proud. I hope they’d see the love and lessons they instilled in me reflected in the way I guide my own kids.

And I hope they know, even in their absence, how much they’re still a part of our lives.