In the last few months there has been a dramatic change in my household. This time last year my home consisted of me, my three children and my granddaughter. Add that up and you get 5 of us - 4 being female, which left my son swimming in an estrogen ocean. About 4 months ago my oldest daughter found love and moved out with her daughter to a fresh new start. Two weeks ago I moved my middle child into her dorm as she started college. So now it's just me and "the boy" as we females commonly have referred to him since his sister gave him that nickname. It's a big adjustment to go from 5 to 2 living in the house. At least my daughter still comes home on the weekends from college, but still for those 5 days it's a big change!
I knew this day would come. I knew that my children would one by one leave the nest and there I would be...without them to tell good night or wake them up of a morning. I knew that eventually there would be less places set at the table and that the meals would less and less to prepare. I knew the laundry pile would go down and I knew that the hot water would last longer when there weren't so many people to take showers. But to be honest I just didn't think it would happen so fast. One would think that having 18 years to prepare for this once each of them were born would give me an ample amount of time to brace myself for this. I was wrong. I know that my son Eli is soon to be 15, but I know as well that in only 1,122 short days (give or take a few) his time to go out in the world will come.
It seems like only last week that I was washing bottles, folding onesies and rocking them to sleep. I swear it was only yesterday that I took each of their small hands and walked them into that big world of kindergarten. I look back through the last 24 years (that's how old my oldest daughter Jess is) and to be truthful it really is just a blur. I went from having my hands full to rubbing my hands together in complete void.
I am a complete mess of confusion, doubt, emptiness, but also pride, happiness at the same time. I feel this enormous void encircling me and filling me up slowly. What will I do with myself without them needing me like before? I know that on occasion I will still get a text or a phone call with an all familiar voice on the other end saying "Mom, I don't feel good." or "Mom, I need some help with something." But that job is only part time in comparison to getting up every hour on the hour to check temperatures or staying up till wee hours in the morning completing a school project and giving it some extra special touches for extra points or a few oooh's and ahhh's from the teacher and fellow students.
Instead now I give advice over the phone..."take some Tylenol, eat some soup, drink lots of fluids..." It's just not the same. I look back to the countless times they would come crawl in bed with me just for the added security of knowing I was there, or how many times I sat outside the bathroom door waiting for what seemed like hours for a virus to go away so they felt better. The other night my oldest decided to make my lasagna that it is a family recipe. I wanted to cry and smile at the same time at the thought of her standing in front of her own stove fixing what I had fixed for her when she was at home. It wasn't the same though as her standing in the kitchen and me showing her how to make a marinara sauce from scratch.
The worst thing though at this point is the regret that you have for the times that you wasted, the times that you could have done more. I wish I had taken more time out of my own schedule to accommodate theirs more. I wish I had listened more to their stories and asked more about their days. I wish that I had traditions that I had created for them to pass on to their own children. And I wonder if I taught them enough. Did I teach them all they need to know to be out in this cruel and insane world?
I suppose that the list of questions that could flood my mind could be endless. I know that as long as I allow it to happen that doubt will fill my mind as to whether I have equipped them properly for the continuation of their journey through life....without me right there beside them. I have to learn to let it go and most importantly...I have to learn to let them go.
Every year when I put up my Christmas tree I look at the ornaments and I tell my kids and others that as long as my children are in my house that my tree will be decorated with memories of each of them. There are handmade ornaments, significant ones for each like 1st, 2nd, 3rd Christmas, ornaments from school or church. And I tell them one day when my kids are grown and gone then I will have a fancy tree like you see in the windows of the local florist. I think about it now and realize that will be a reality all to soon when the last one leaves the nest and I'm thinking as pretty as those trees in the window are they will never mean as much as the one I have had for years. I'm certainly going to enjoy it much more the next few years that's for sure.
There's this saying that first you give them roots and then you give them wings. I know that the time has come for two of them and in the near future for my youngest to spread their wings and fly and I know that I have had time to prepare those wings...I just wish I had a little more time for the roots.
