Nest emptying in progress

[Evie]

For a few months now, my son has been shopping around for an apartments and for roommates to share it with.  He finally found someone  a month or two ago who agreed to share an apartment with him, and a week or so ago, they narrowed down their apartment search.  Today, they signed the final papers, and can move into their new place any time today or later.

On the one hand, I am feeling happy and proud for him, because this is something my son has wanted to do since starting university last year, although he had to wait until this year because our university's freshmen are required to live either at home with their parents (or other local family) or in campus housing, and we couldn't afford the campus housing and meal plan rates...eek!  He will be living only 5-10 minutes away from campus rather than having to drive 40+ minutes each way to get to classes.

On the other hand, I'm feeling a sense of loss.  Nineteen years has flown by so quickly! As long as I can remember, I had one major dream in life, and it was to be the mother of two children.  From my earliest years, I pictured myself as having a son and a daughter, in that order, and even when I grew old enough to understand that you couldn't just pick them from a menu, I figured I'd be happy with whatever God gave me, but a son and a daughter was always my heart's dream.  Even when I was growing up and realizing, along with my friends, that we were living in the late 20th Century and had lots of careers opening up to us as young women, the thought of a career was always such a secondary thing in my mind.  I wanted a job that I could be happy in, sure, but more than anything else, I just wanted to be a wife and a mother.  Anything else in life would be mere icing; for me, family was the actual cake.

And then I found the man I wanted to start that family with, and we married.  I finished my graduate studies, we spent a few years getting to know each other and enjoying the freedoms of being married with no children for a short while, but we both wanted a family.  And then my grandmother (who was also one of my closest friends) became terminally ill, and in the stress of helping care for her in her final illnesses, I became infertile.  It was a short-term problem, completely due to all the stress my body was under, but I didn't realize that at the time.  I thought I'd never be able to have children of my own.  I remember long nights of crying and praying for God to give me a child.  At least one baby, if not the son and daughter of my dreams.

And He did.  I learned that I was pregnant not very long after Easter Sunday, which was the day when I finally came to terms with the loss of my grandmother.  To me, the news felt like an affirmation from God that life goes on, not just for the future of my family, but even for the beloved grandmother I had lost the previous January.  When my doctor gave me my son's due date, it turned out to be the one-year anniversary of my grandmother's death.  (He ended up being born nine days early, and has been impatient and disinclined to wait around ever since!  )

And now that firstborn is ready to fly from the family nest.  That's his dream, and I'm happy for him that he's able to achieve it.  But I'm also sad, because he's my baby.  Not my only baby, but the first of my two beautiful miracles.  And I'm going to miss him, even if I'm not going to particularly miss the sibling squabbles, or the dirty dishes left in the living room, or the dirty socks under the couch.  And even though he's only moving 40 minutes away, and will still be working here in town, and probably dropping by to visit me several evenings a week to raid my fridge or eat a hot meal he doesn't have to cook for himself.  I'm laughing at myself for being such a saddie, but I can't help it.  I'm a Mom.   

[Aerlys]

Beautifully put, Evie! Where's my Kleenex?

As I watch my friends' children move out and away, often to other states and countries, it makes me realize how quickly a family can be dispersed. Though I am years away from a completely empty nest, I know our time together as a family is so brief and precious. This is why Tripzilla will remain a precious memory.  I am not looking forward to nest-emptying, myself, though I know it is an inevitable and necessary part of life.

At least your son is still nearby. May your family ever remain close in miles and in spirit.

[revanne]

So beautifully put.

It's about time we reclaimed being a Mum ( or Mom) as a true vocation, whatever other vocations we may have.

My nestlings have all flown but praise God we are still close as a family and I'm sure you will be too.

[Elkhound]

http://www.brucesallan.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/First-day-of-college-cartoon.jpg

[Elkhound]

http://www.cartoonaday.com/images/cartoons/2010/08/back_to_school_family_cartoon-598x318.jpg

[revanne]

Love the cartoons Elkhound

[DesertRose]

Funny how fast they grow up.  It seems like it was yesterday that my daughter (my only child) was a wee one, and now she's coming up on her 22nd birthday.

Kiddo hasn't flown the nest yet (she is finishing community college before moving on next year to a four-year school), but I know the feeling.  When did my baby girl turn into a grown woman?

I was discussing this with my neighbor, who has a 13-year-old daughter whom he continually calls "Baby Girl" and she protests, saying she's not a baby anymore.  His standard response is she'll always be his baby girl, regardless of how old she is.

So your DS will always be your baby boy, even as he matures and makes his own way in the world. 

Elkhound, those cartoons are in that category of "It's funny because it's true."  LOL

[Elkhound]

I thought that the whole point of raising children was to eventually send them out on their own?

I had an uncle who was brain damaged at birth; I also had a first cousin who was autistic.  When I hear parents lament on their children moving out and becoming independent, I think that my grandmother and my aunt would CHEERFULLY have changed places with you.

[DesertRose]

Well, yes, it is generally inevitable that they grow up and make their own lives.  It's just bittersweet, is all.

[Laurna]

Evie, I can read and feel the love and the pride of motherhood in your words. You should think of this partial nest emptying is a sign of accomplishment. You've made your dream come true. But the dream is not over, it is just moving to the next level, the level of independence and freedom. Where everything you've taught for the past 19 years will finally be used and have meaning. Just think of the many things that can come next: girlfriends, graduation, marriage, and May be, just may be--- wait for it---Grand kids!

I'm afraid to admit that your words pulled at my heart strings, for I once shared that same dream.

So believe me when I say, you should be proud of your accomplishment and help your son move to his new place. Don't worry, he will never forget how to find his way home. When he needs food, laundry, or money, that is. Or maybe just some good old advice from Mom.

[Aerlys]

**SNIFF!!**

I know threads can be marked as "sticky" or "hot," but is there a "hanky" marker?

[Laurna]

It is Saturday morning and the sun is shinning. So I think I shall go shopping for some new plants. The planter in front of my house could use some bright flowers.

[Evie]

I have already been assured that he will be returning home often.  Chez Mama is the source of free food and laundry, after all.   

Elkhound, don't get me wrong.  I really am glad he is motivated to move out and become independent of me.  It would be far worse if he was still wanting to live at home and be completely dependent on me in his late twenties, or even worse, in his late fifties!     One of the goals of parenting is teaching one's children how to become self-sufficient (or at least, when it comes to children with disabilities, as self-sufficient as their particular disabilities will permit).

That said, though, in any close-knit relationship there is a sense of loss and even grieving mixed in with the happiness when life's milestones cause a degree of separation in the relationship that was never there before.  That doesn't mean that separation is bad, it simply means that the capacity to love deeply brings with it the capacity to feel at least some degree of pain when the bond stretches and changes in some heretofore unfamiliar way.  I felt a similar sense of loss when my parents, who used to live just an hour away and who were able to visit their young grandchildren two or three times a month, decided to sell their house here and move to Texas, a two days' drive away from us.  They had wonderful reasons for the move, and I shared their happiness at the opportunities they were leaving us in order to pursue.  Yet that move mean that I only get to see them once a year now, or twice at most, and that separation hurts a little bit, especially as they are aging and I don't know how much longer I will have them both in my life.  I treasure every moment I'm with them and don't take it for granted anymore.

It's the same way with children.  We do our best to prepare them for the day when they won't have us to depend on, but at the same time, when they reach the stage of being able to stand on their own two feet, it's--as DesertRose said--bittersweet.  It's a good change, but like many good changes in life, there are some growing pains involved.

I still have one more baby at home, but I know I will go through all of this with her soon enough.  And once both of my babies are on their own, I look forward to the freedom of the empty nest.  There are things I'd like to do and experience while I'm still young and active enough to do so that are more difficult (or at least a whole lot more expensive and outside my ability to afford) with an entire family in tow.  My children would be welcome to join me in those future adventures (especially if they can pay their own way!), but I can't take for granted anymore that I will always have them with me.  And that's what makes this stage of separation bittersweet.

And yes, Laurna, grandchildren would be a wonderful compensation!  But not too soon.  I want them to experience the joys of independent singleness for at least a short while before they move on to the joys of interdependent marriage and family. 

[Jerusha]

Two of my sons are in their 30s.  I still get the following calls/emails:

"Mama, how long should I defrost a steak in the microwave?"

"Mom, what temperature do I set the iron at to iron my suit?"

Don't worry - you will always be needed.