When I started this blog, it was with the express intention of finding my way through the grief of the Empty Nest. My babies left me, and I was bereft, heartbroken, lost. I literally could not imagine a life where my three children were not the center of every single decision.
Since that first post, I have written about my childrens’ growth, and about my own. I have recorded the feelings that I experienced when my kids left for college, and the feelings that I experienced when they came back. It was a thick, smokey stew of emotion; my neediness mixed with theirs, their desire for independence clashing with my desire to be in control of their lives.
I have recorded moves to new houses, painful breakups and moves back home, and the tearing separation of moving away once again. Through it all, my underlying motive and wish/dream was to have my babies back under my roof once again.
I was not a very supportive Momma to these young adults. In some strange and icky way, I sort of wanted them to fail so that they could come back home and need me to take care of them.
Now, though, everything has changed.
It has been just about a year since any of my kids lived here with us. A year since I was the Mommy with the responsibility of cooking dinner.
In that year, I guess I have gotten used to the clean kitchen, the well stocked refrigerator and the chance to walk around in my underwear.
I didn’t notice that I was letting go. I didn’t consciously realize that I no longer felt the burning need to have my babies here beside me. I thought that I was stuck, that I wasn’t evolving at all.
But I was wrong.
My daughter is faced all of a sudden with a need for a new place to live. She wants to live with her boyfriend, and I can only say that I support this wish with my whole heart and soul. They are looking for a place together. A place that is close enough for both to commute, a place that is affordable, and a place that will accept their lively and energetic dog.
As the days tick by, and they are unable to find such a haven, we have offered to have them move in here with us. Of course we did! What else would good parents do?
And if they did move in, we would have fun, we would enjoy our dinners together, we would watch movies, and drink nice wines and have a lot of laughs. It would work out just fine. Or even more than fine!
It might be really fabulous.
It would be a setback, for them, and for us.
At last, at long, long last, I have realized that I am actually at the end of my journey.
My nest is empty, and I am fine.
I miss my children. I love them, and I will always love seeing them. But I realize that I am hoping very fervently that Kate and her Sam can find a place for themselves, and that they won’t need to come here to live with us.
And that is a very good thing to realize.
I think this blog is almost done.