I believe this year is going to be full of opportunities to: believe you can, to risk, to say I am sorry and I need you to
I was talking with a sad mother today who was missing her son who got married. She reminisced about past holidays
of stringing the garland popcorn, pre-school gifts he made her, like the hand print in clay, school day projects of salt
maps, and those freezing football games of jumping up and down, always praying he wouldn
Empty nest had an advantage today, quiet and no other person
The holidays have tapped on our door and empty time is placed in the basement.
I still have my intention
to engage in a creative force. I feel the chaos from my to-do list, the shopping, the events to schedule, the want to
bring joy and beauty to my home, and keeping creativity flowing.
Right now, my creativity is expressed
through writing. I am passionate about desires, ways to fulfillment, acceptance, creativity, wildness, connectedness,
paradoxes, and perspective. I have a huge curiosity about communication styles and happiness. I like change. I want
to explore every nook and cranny about life. I wonder about entering elder hood. I wonder about behaviors we do. I
wonder about the bigger picture.
I believe all creativity is of value even if no one sees it or likes it, but
me. It engages me in new ways and leads me. It is a surrender and satisfaction. It is mine and not. Creativity gives me
a relationship with me that is different than with another person.
I just need to show up with my blank
page, be honest, and let it flow.
Sometimes, I say,
My grateful list as an Empty nester
When my tears bring me down, and I curl into bed missing that love
Empty nest will be full. Holidays are next week. I have been routinely working away, long days and nights. I let my
honey know.
My girlfriend and I were hiking this morning and she asked me,
My house wasn’t quiet because all three of my boys came home to stuff themselves with yummy turkey and pumpkin pie. I always decorate with leaves and candles, keeping it simple. Each year I have a surprise. It was stories from their elementary school days. Pioneer days! We just have a good laugh at their spelling, and stick figures. Don’t even ask about how adorable they look in covered wagons on a stage.
So how am I suppose to let go tomorrow after laughing, staying up late talking about the good and bad parts of life , and those long walks with skateboards leaping and bikes racing by. All the memories of sitting at the holiday table and school days have been immersed in me like a sponge.
Their friends came by for hugs and “so good to see you again.”
Milk cartons were left on the counter, empty cereal boxes were put back in the cupboard so know one had to smoosh it in the garbage, and we forgot, again, to serve the rolls and butter, so they sit on the counter, waiting!
My house is so full with smells of turkey and pumpkin, doors slamming, dishes in the sink, and the clothes clanking in the dryer. The football games on TV seemed to never have goodbyes.
Are those memories going to fill me until the next time we gather or am I going to have to find something new in me to fill the emptiness on those long dark, cold nights?
My boys are back at school. I am curled in my flannel pink PJ’s, in my bed, fighting the silence and emptiness with a blaring tv. Why can’t the flowers, dishes, towels, or full garbage cans emit laughter, shouts of “MOM” or doors slamming?
I have been here before, but it is never an easy transition when my boys go back to school My sweet house instantly is silent. A part of me says , “it hurts so much to let go. The silence of the morning that has no stretch into a joyous kid day, just feels lonely. When will this get easier? I know this is how the journey goes They come home. GREAT!!! They leave. I just have lonely, feelings for awhile.
Is it something other than lonely? Am I going to hurt without figuring out how to feel better in the silence? I just don’t like it and that sure sounds immature.
Honesty, I am not being hard on myself or unrealistic. I just am amazed at how deeply I love my kids. It is embarrassing
to cry for my children who leave. I know better in my head and my heart just wants more time together.
Two decades , the most important and satisfying job , has again been down sized to emails and cell phones.
I don’t have any memories of my parents sharing their feelings of my leaving home. Tonight my oldest boy said, “Mom, thanks. I know you will always be there for me and this break was awesome because of YOU.
Maybe those words will fill my head and heart when my house is painfully silent. I just miss that energetic, rather over the top, activity that goes on in our home when the boys come back. I can’t make that feeling on my own.
Has anyone figured it all out?
Thank you,
I was driving home from the farmer
I cried, but that
Natalie Caine, M.A. natalie@lifeintransition.org