My EN began when
Kristen was in her
junior year of high
school. Just the
thought of her leaving
was too much to handle
for me. I would go to
work crying and come
home the same way.
Although the Kleenex
became my constant
companion, I never let
on to Kristen that I
felt like I was dying
inside. It was as if I
were Dr. Jekyll and
Mrs. Hyde. When I was
with her I was fine
but the minute she
wasn’t at home, the
“zombie” state settled
in.
I would nestle in the
recliner, lights off,
blankets on and zone
everything and
everyone out. As I
sank deeper and deeper
and senior year
approached, I became
terrified at what was
happening. It was
getting more difficult
every day to get out
of bed and go to work.
Once I was in school
(I am a kindergarten
teacher) I had to
function for the kids
but when school was
over, the emptiness
was overwhelming.
I began to see a
therapist and a
psychiatrist. My
doctor prescribed 2
anti-depressants,
which helped for a
while and then needed
to be increased. I am
still taking the
anti-depressants
everyday but am slowly
being taken off.
(After five years I
would think it’s about
time.) My therapist
was an enormous help
to me. It took a very
long time but she
helped me realize, and
this is what got me
through it, that
Kristen, unlike my
Dad, was coming back.
My dad died 29 years
ago and I was treating
Kristen’s going away
as a permanent thing.
When I came to terms
that this was a
completely different
situation, I was able
to cope and handle my
feelings. That’s how
the book came to be.
I needed a way to let
Kristen know how much
I loved her, how much
she meant to me. I
wanted her to have
something to cherish
when I was gone. I had
this idea for a story
and since I had always
wanted to write a
children’s book and I
liked to draw, I
thought why not? The
idea played over and
over in my head and
then I finally sat
down and put my heart
on the pages.
The story speaks for
itself. It’s about
three friends (myself,
my husband and
Kristen) sharing a
very special bond.
When one of the three
(Kristen) goes
missing, the other two
frantically search for
her. Monkey, the cat,
climbs to the nest but
finds it “empty”. The
search ends late
morning but the next
day a clue is found as
to the whereabouts of
their friend. They
learn she’ll be back
in the spring (the
close of the
semester). Children
will like the story
and the illustrations.
Adults will relate to
the emotional roller
coaster that Monkey
and Harold experience
and they’ll understand
BooBeeps, who is
Kristen, as their
child, too.
When I was a younger
woman I never
understood what my mom
went through but being
a full-fledged member
of EN, my heart
reaches out to young
mothers everywhere.
It turns out I’ve been
pretty naïve about how
this “empty nest”
thing actually works.
When my story titled
“Pedal Power” was
published in Chicken
Soup for the Soul:
Empty Nesters in 2007,
I was still only
imagining what it
would be like when all
of my children had
left home. At that
time two sons were
away at college and my
youngest was a senior
in high school. I was
still only
anticipating the
changes that were
about to take place.
Soon after that story
was selected for
Chicken Soup, my
husband and I decided
to make a pre-emptive
strike against the
lonely days we knew
lay ahead: we sold our
house in the suburbs
and moved to the
country. Our hope was
that hard work in a
new setting would help
take some of the
sting out of the
adjustment phase. We
would spackle over the
empty spots in the
nest with our own
projects and
challenges. And in the
end we would have a
new kind of life we
had built together,
just the two of us,
just as we did when we
were first married.
But it didn’t exactly
work out that way. It
seems that “empty” is
one of those fluid
words, at least in the
context of the nest.
Over the past two
years, all three of
our sons have lived
with us for short
periods of time. It's
ironic, given that one
of our primary reasons
for moving was to live
in a house that wasn’t
filled with memories
of them.
It turns out that we
were wrong about that
part. In fact, their
presence here has
helped make this house
feel like home, in a
way that wouldn’t have
happened otherwise.
They’ve helped us
strip wallpaper (ugh,
a job I hope never to
have to do again as
long as I live!), put
in a vegetable garden,
install shelves in the
basement, even stack
hay in the barn.
On a practical level,
we appreciated their
help. But the true
value has been in the
pleasure of working
side by side with
them, talking about
everything and
nothing, admiring
their skills and their
confidence,
appreciating the good
and accomplished young
men they’ve become.
It's a unique
experience, living
with your children
again, getting to know
them after they’ve
moved away and have
come back all grown
up. It's something we
never anticipated but
feel lucky to have
had.
It's also gratifying
that all three have
been comfortable and
happy here. They've
takento this peaceful
country setting in a
way they never would
have before, when
their lives revolved
around friends, school
and sports. And since
they’ve each lived
here for a time, they
don’t feel like
they’re just visiting
Mom and Dad’s
house—they feel like
they’re coming home.
The downside? Besides
having to share a
bathroom with boys
again? For me it’s
that the process of
letting them go has
been prolonged. Each
time one of them stays
for a few weeks or
months, our lives take
on a new rhythm. We
learn to share the
bathroom and the
washing machine. We
help take care of each
others’ pets. We
remember that a large
pizza will barely go
around, let alone
provide a few days of
leftovers as it used
to do. We watch family
movies and laugh about
the old days. I never
get tired of looking
into those grown-up
faces and seeing my
sweet little boys
there.
But then the day comes
when their plans take
them away again. For
me this just never
gets easier. While
helping them pack I’m
already anticipating
the loss. Then for
weeks afterward I bump
into it at every
turn—their car no
longer in the
driveway, their cat or
dog not there to greet
me when I get home
from work, their
favorite foods now
sitting uneaten in the
cupboard.
And it’s not as if
they are just moving
across town—currently
they live in three
different states, none
of them ours. I think
it's this "all or
nothing" aspect that
makes it so hard for
me. Either they
actually live in my
house or they are far
away—there's no in
between.
So here we are, my
husband and I, once
again comforting each
other. We know that
having our sons here
for a while has been
worth the grief of
seeing them go again.
We also know that
there are much worse
things than having a
family that misses
each other when
they’re apart.
It's time to adjust to
the suddenly quiet
house again and to
start making our own
plans. It’s time to
revisit the wise--if
somewhat
untested--advice I
dished out myself in
“Pedal Power” two
years ago: “After all,
life doesn’t run
backward. There is
only forward. There is
only the never-ending
challenge of keeping
your balance. I know
I'll be fine if I just
keep pedaling." I
think it's a lesson
I'll need to learn
over and over again,
at least for a little
while longer.
Carol A. Grund is
a recovering
empty-nester who
writes for children
and adults. Her story
called “Pedal Power”
appeared in 2008’s
Chicken Soup for the
Soul: Empty Nesters,
and her first
middle-grade novel
will be published in
April 2010. Read more
at
www.CarolAGrund.com
It
was always just me and
them, they were so small
just 4, 3 and not quite
1 when we started this
journey. The years
of hard work, 2 and 3
jobs, always self
denial, but it was okay,
they never asked to be
brought here it was not
their choice, it was
mine. We have a
strong bond, and I have
spent what seems like my
entire life ensuring
theywould learn to never
give up and they will
obtain their true
happiness.
And
as one is gone, and the
second out the door, and
the third graduating and
leaving for the
service…. My heart
aches so, the tears wont
seem to stop…. I
forever thought I can't
wait until they are on
their own I am so tired
and worn out, the
countless nights of
worry, but all I think
about now is no more
sneaking into their
rooms to hid Easter
baskets, no climbing in
bed just to snuggle, no
one to watch TV with, or
listen to the radio
with, or go for walks
with….
Wow
I am truly proud of all
of them, I just never
saw this coming, it
hurts.
As
a single mom of two boys,
I went without--so they
could have. I had no
financial support from
their father when they
were younger-and so ended
up working at 2 cleaning
jobs, 7 days a week.
Finally, I decided to go
back to school--and I
worked hard to get my BA
in Psychology and a Social
Service Diploma--and
incurred a huge debt. I
grew up in a very
dysfunctional home--and
had some very bad
experiences as a child. I
grew up too fast. I also
had some bad relationships
with men.
However,
despite everything--I did
the best I could--and then
one day--I lost it. I
started to go into a
depression. My sons
suffered for it. They made
a choice to stay away from
me--despite all the good I
did. I tried-on two
occasions to commit
suicide. I was drinking
every weekend--because I
couldn't handle reality
anymore--the debts, the
problems encountered with
my sons. But here I
am-telling my story. At
present-I am very alone. I
want to find work that is
in line with my
education--but I need to
heal-and our system
doesn't help us with that.
As bleak as things may
seem, I still believe that
somewhere there is a life
for me--and love is a
hopeful dream--but still a
hope.
How
I wish I could have
changed so many things
from my recent past. But I
can only do what I can for
today.
I miss my sons--and I wish
they would be there for
me--as I was there for
them. Suddenly-their
father is now
the hero. he has come back
into the picture--and
supplies them with money
and all kinds of things I
can't afford.
I
wake up--and feel very
alone. I go to bed-and
feel alone. I need
help-and I know it. I just
don't know where to
turn-when my focus in life
was my sons. It's very
hard to live for
oneself--and remain
poor--despite all efforts
in trying. At this point,
I'm still grieving the
loss-and feel ashamed at
my own indiscretions that caused
pain to my sons--even
though they too did some
things that would rattle
anyone's bones. They have
an excuse--they are young
men. I have no excuses--to
be human--to be falling
apart. I remain a
story-untold
(Note:
I wrote this article
this past December for a
MOPs (Mothers of
Preschoolers) group I
was mentoring at the
time.)
Based
on the Gospel of Luke.
Because
Christmas is
fast-approaching and
because of the new
Nativity movie opening
today, I've been
thinking of Mary and
Joseph and the role
model that Mary is for
all of us.
The
Bible tells us very
little about Mary -- We
know she was born in
Nazareth; she was
Jewish; we know she was
betrothed to Joseph when
the angel Gabriel
appeared to her and that
she was a virgin and a
young teen-aged girl at
the time. We know
she was a faithful
servant. We know
Mary was related to
Elizabeth, the mother of
John the Baptist.
We know she traveled
with Joseph to Bethlehem
and that Jesus was born
in Bethlehem. We
know that the young
family traveled from
Bethlehem to Egypt and
lived there until Jesus
was 7. We know
that she was upset with
Jesus when he stayed
behind in Jerusalem at
the
Temple when he was 12
years old; we know Mary
was with her Son at the
wedding in Cana when he
performed his first
miracle and we know she
was at the foot of the
cross when he died.
The
Bible doesn't tell us
much more than this, so
we can only speculate
what it must have been
like for her. Did
she understand all along
that Jesus would not
belong to her?
Like
Mary, we've all been
given gifts in our
children and we need to
understand that our
children do not belong
to us. Like Jesus,
our children were born
with a purpose and a
plan
for their lives.
It is our job to prepare
them and help them to
live the life God
intended them to live
and be the people God
intended them to
be. We don't own
our kids; they belong to
God and it is our job to
nurture them and direct
them toward their
special purpose, even if
their lives mean
heartache for us as
parts of Jesus' life
were heartbreaking for
Mary.
When
my youngest daughter was
preparing to leave for a
college in North
Carolina (three states
away from our home), I
commiserated with a
neighbor that I ran into
only occasionally.
She cheerfully asked me
how my daughter was
doing and where had she
decided to go to
school. Her
response to my sadness
helped me tremendously
and I'll always be
grateful to her.
She said:
"Lynn, think of her
as a child of God
fulfilling her
purpose. That way,
it's not so hard to let
her go." This
advice came from a mom
whose son had
joined the Navy and was
stationed in
Japan. My neighbor
had no idea when she
would see her son again
and had no way to
contact him as he went
on missions and could be
gone for weeks or months
at a time.
Somehow,
college in North
Carolina didn't seem so
bad any more.
I
still miss my three
grown daughters and long
for the days when their
rooms were messy; their
backpacks were on the
kitchen table; and their
calls of "Bye Mom,
I'm leaving now, I'll
see you later!"
rung in my ears.
But even more than
missing those days is
how proud of them I am
and how much I enjoy
them as adults.
Our
dining room table has always
been a favorite place to
gather. We bought it in 1977
from the people who
previously owned my
parent’s mobile home in
Paso Robles, CA.They had to move it
out by taking it out of the
mobile home window. Anyway
Brian was just 4 months old
when we purchased it. Since
then, it has had several
sets of chairs around it
including several different
high chairs for our 3 sons
and now for our 2
granddaughters.
When
we first purchased it, it
had been redone in a dark
wood. In 1986 we had it
completely stripped and
restored in an oak finish.
At that time we noticed that
it had a 1906 date stamped
on it making it even more
special to us since my
Grandma and Grandpa Smiley
were both born in that year.
This
table has seen a lot of use
with us gathered around it
for these 30 years since
Brian was just a baby. It
has been the most used piece
of furniture we have ever
had. Not only has it been
used for family meals, but
for decorating cookies and
decorating Easter eggs. It
has seen many crayons,
pencils and pens, playdough
and precious sticky
fingerprints come across it.
A lot of homework and school
projects that needed extra
room have been done there.
The table has heard many
conversations too after and
during meals, coffee or tea
chats with family and
friends. It has held many
celebrations for holidays,
birthdays and graduations.
The
dining room table is an
important piece in our home,
but most importantly . . .
it’s the conversation we
have had as a family
gathered around it that
makes it even more special
to us. Our dining room table
has heard conversations that
have held joys, worries and
prayers. It has heard a lot
of table graces. One of
which was our thank you,
thank you Jesus, thank you
thank you Jesus, thank you,
thank you Jesus in our
hearts, thank you, thank you
Jesus, thank you, thank you
Jesus, thank you thank you
Jesus in our hearts. Then we
progressed to much in depth
and more spiritual prayers
as the boys grew older –
ones that we felt were a
progression of their growth
in Jesus.
I,
too, have learned so much
listening to the
conversations around our
table. Now our grandchildren
will learn and grow as they
visit their grandma and
grandpa. Our table has many
marks and dings but to us it
shows that it is really
loved and well used. It is
sad when a table can’t
tell tales of countless
stories that have been told
across its top that produced
laughter and sometimes
tears.
Brian
may still have a dent in his
forehead when he fell
forward as a small toddler.
It
is the old family joke that
Matthew, who always sat next
to his Dad at the table,
always got thumped across
the chest for something he
said or did. He was always
the one who put his napkin
on his head or poked holes
through the napkin to make a
mask. Jeff was the one we
have pictures of as he fell
asleep at the table while we
entertained his classroom
bear at the table. Jeff was
always cracking silly jokes
at the table because he was
the “funny guy”.
Forty
or fifty years ago it was
unheard of to eat in the
living room (I must admit to
doing that way too much,
myself) or grab a bite to
go. Time has taken away some
of the most precious
attributes of a family. We
are always in a rush to get
through life. This is where
we daily get to participate
in the lives of our children
and have some of the best
chats.
Even
though the table hasn’t
always fit too well in the
dining rooms we have had and
tablecloths are hard to find
in its size, we would never
get rid of it. We love our
dining room table because of
its memories, and when it is
ready to pass onto our
children or grandchildren, I
hope we can share a very
important piece of furniture
and the importance of the
family table . . dings and
all.
To everything there
is a season and a
time for every
purpose under
heaven:
A time to be
pregnant, And the
rest of my life to
look at the stretch
marks every time I
change my clothes;
A
time to feed, clothe
and nurture my
children, And a time
to watch with
mixed emotions as
they move away;
A
time to do mounds
...and mounds and
mounds...of laundry,
And a time to
snicker when each
child realizes that
they won't have any
clean underwear if
they don't pick it
up and wash it
themselves (or buy
new ones...);
A
time to chauffer
offspring
around, And the
moment when
youngsters get a
piece of paper from
the state that says
they can drive
themselves;
A
time to giggle
because our children
think the opposite
sex has cooties,
And a time to gasp
as that same child
walks down the
aisle;
A
time to talk,And
even more times to
resolutely try to
keep my mouth shut;
A time to teach the
values I want my
children to have,
And a time to watch
as they choose to
implement those life
lessons...or not.
A time to protect my
children from life's
hurts and harms, And
a time to bite my
tongue, step back,
and pray as they
learn to clean up
their own messes.
A time to carry out
all those bags and
bags of trash my
children insist it
isn't their turn to
take out, And a time
to wish I was a fly
on the wall in
his/her new home
when s/he realizes
that the
take-out-the-trash-fairy
is nowhere to be
found.
A
time to pick up all
the abandoned
treasures, toys, and
clothes left lying
on the floor...on
the furniture...in
the
bathroom...,
And
a time to look at a
clean...but
silent...room and
miss the mess;
A
time to be up late
at night comforting
fretful babies, And
a time to be wide
awake because my
teenager is out past
curfew;
A
time to wonder how
I'm going to find
the time (and
energy) it takes to
do everything that
has to be done, And
a time to wonder
what I'm going to do
with all the time on
my hands;
A
time to be the
smartest human on
earth in my little
one's eyes, And a
time to become
dumber every breath
I take as that same
adoring child
becomes a teenager;
A
time to hold my
babies and wonder
how I'm going to
handle the 24/7-ness
of being completely
responsible for
another human life,
And
a time to love,
cherish, and cuddle
grandchildren...and
then send them home;
A
time to long for
just one moment
alone, And a time to
feel lonely and sad
because the silence
is deafening;
A
time to wonder if my
little heathens will
ever grow up to be
productive citizens,
And
a time to marvel at
the wonderful
individuals they've
become.
I'm a single
mother and
grandmother. My
son, 22 years old
now has moved out
with the mother of
his daughter.
When
the girl became
pregnant she was
in a bad life
situation so in
order to ensure
that she was well
taken care of
while pregnant she
moved in with us.
She had the baby
January 2006 and
the 3 of them
moved out March
2007.
I
feel as if I've
not only lost my
world (since being
a single parent
everything
revolved around my
son) but that I
have now lost my
sun.
See,
the 2 of them over
the course of the
past 14 months
have seriously
lacked
proper parenting
skills. They
wanted to stay up
all night and then
when the baby
awoke in the
morning didn't
want to
take care of her
because they were
tired...therefore
I took care of
her.
I've
spent many of my
days off caring
for the baby and
spent many days
when I should have
been sleeping (I
work nights) also
taking care of
her. I've
done everything
that a mother
would do for her
child and yet a
small piece of me
in the back of my
mind was
saying...she's not
yours.
But,
when no one else
will take care of
her, being a true
mother myself, one
cannot let the
child do
without.
I've bought
clothes and
everything else
that a baby
needs. And
now it's
gone. I feel
as if someone has
ripped that baby
from my arms and
they're hungry to
have her
back.
So,
here I am left to
my own
devices at times
feeling like I'm
dying inside
because true my
son needs to be
out on his own
there is no
denying that,
but I worry about
the baby and the
poor parenting
skills that he and
the mother have
demonstrated over
the past few
months. My
heart is breaking
for the
baby.
I
miss my son of
course because
it's been him and
I for so many
years.
So, I wait for the
time (I hope it's
soon) when this
overwhelming sense
of loss
will dissipate. I
have become angry
a couple of times
because in a sense
I feel that what
has happened is
that I liken my
grand daughter as
to being my own
because they
placed me in that
situation
many many times.
I've
tried to keep busy
and hope to be
able to take some
small trips here
and there...should
certainly be able
to afford it since
those 2 sponged
off of me for 2
years! Yes,
that's a sore spot
with me.
But, from what I
hear it is
supposed to all
get better and I
hope that to be
true. I wait
anxiously for the
day.
When
I look into those big
brown eyes, I see much
more than just him. It
is like looking into
my baby’s
eyes.
Charles
is 21 years old now,
but when I look at
Warren G. I am
reminded of the years
I had with Charles.
Warren
G. is so much like his
Father. In looks and
attitude, so much that
it is unreal. He is
like Charles made
over. He looks out the
window and yearns to
get outside. Charles
was anxious to get to
the outside world too.
And
he did. Every chance
he got he snuck out
and went to Tammy’s.
She always had an ice
cream on a stick for
him. Then as he got
older he was at his
friends house. The
time passed faster
than I wanted.
I
never looked forward
to being a grandmother
much. I felt like it
made me an old woman.
Now I am in awe of the
way this child makes
me feel.
For
a few years I had a
clean house. No toys
lying around, No messy
floors from kids
eating. I remember
thinking how the house
was always a mess with
children’s toys from
my four children, and
thinking I could never
keep it clean.
Those
years in between my
children leaving home
and new babies were
rough on me. I really
had empty nest mom’s
syndrome!
Life
has a way of moving on
though. I think I
found the cure for
this very bad
syndrome, Grandbabies!
I have gotten past the
feeling that
Grandchildren make me
old. It happened when
I looked in my
Grandchild’s eyes
and seen Charles in
there.
When
I held him and when he
said “I love you
Mamma”. By the way I
recorded it so I can
listen to it often.
There are toys in the
corner of the living
room and lots of noise
making when he is
here. I love every
minute of it.
“Hey Mom”! My
daughter would sing out
as she stormed through
the front door. “Hey
Chick, how was your
day?” would be my
resounding reply, never
fully knowing where that
answer would lead us.
Sometimes
as she would unfold her
day before me it would
bring great sorrow or
anger at life’s
injustices. Most of the
time, she would tell me
about the fun of
friendships, and the
glee of her daily
adventures.
Every
emotion that she would
express would be
mirrored in my heart,
and carefully I would
try to cheer her through
it all. I always knew
exactly the kind of day
she had experienced by
the way the door opened,
closed and the greeting
that I would get.
“Hey
Mom” never had one
sound to it. “Hey”
meant ‘I’m not
feeling very good about
something right now’
be it school, a friend
or with you. “Mom”
was defiance. ‘I want
to, got to, made up my
mind to’ – but now
will you agree? “Hey,
mom” means that I want
to tell you something,
but I am afraid to. Put
as a question, “Hey
Mom?” always meant
‘I want something from
you’.
Whatever
the greeting, the worst
one is what I call the
‘no greeting’. Those
are the ones that say
‘I am hiding from
you’ moments that
every parent has got to
get to the bottom of and
assume the worse.
When
I break down the “Hey
Mom” It amazes me how
two words can have so
much meaning in them.
“Hey”: is a simple
acknowledgement that you
care, and know that I
care. “Mom”: My
title, and a badge I
wear with pride! It is
also a reason. It gives
me every right and
privilege, to tell her
every day of her life,
how miserable I was for
24 hours to bring her
into this world!
The greeting that would
forever resonate through
out my entire being was
in October of 2006, and
it came like this:
“Hey mom….I think
that it is time for me
to move out and I will
be doing so in the next
couple months”. Wow,
there it was. Just like
that. It took one second
for me to feel robbed of
my negotiation skills,
of my opinions and of my
thoughts!
Instead
of those words being
freeing, I became more
afraid then I have ever
felt of anything in my
entire life! For 18
years my attention had
been my child, now what?
Every choice made, every
day lived was for the
best of my daughter, and
for my family.
I
realize that this should
not come as any shock as
I have spent that life
time preparing her to be
autonomous, but guess
what – SURPRIZE!
The shifting that I had
to make for her to come
into my life was easy.
The shifting to fill the
empty spaces, which were
created with her
leaving, is a lot more
difficult. I am left
with figuring out how to
be apart of my very own
life. The house is
quiet, and my heart has
yet to follow my head. I
try to take solace in
the memories created.
The phone rings and as I
answer it I hear her
voice “Hey Mom” and
in that moment I knew
that I will be okay, I
will adjust. “Hey
chick, how are you
doing”? Is my
resounding reply, never
fully knowing where that
answer will lead us. And
as she unfolds her day
before me I hope that it
is filled with the fun
of friendships, of life,
and a tale of a truly
great adventure!
The
room stood empty. I was
drawn to it like that
strange light in the sky
lured her when she was
ten. Only black circles
remained. Remnants of
existence. Then…in the
grass. Now…in the
carpet.
She was the last. My third
take on immortality. Three
budding stalks of
humanity. The only thing
left to do was watch them
bloom.
“It’s not the end of
the world, Mom.” She
snuck up behind me as I
stared into the vacant
space. Her arm wrapped me
like a strong wind attacks
a corn field; forceful and
determined. I succumbed to
the pressure.
I smiled through tears,
which I had promised
myself she wouldn’t see.
“I know,” I said. Not
convincing. Not to her,
nor to me.
“My place is only six
blocks away. It’s not
like I’m moving to an
alien planet.”
“True.” I smiled
again. The subdued tears
strangled a
lengthier response.
She kissed me and headed
for the door. “Your
nest is
empty, mom. Live a
little.” With that, she
was gone.
I
dropped to the center of
the worn carpet, her
memory
deep.
After
2 girls I finally gave
birth to my son. I
remember
when the nurses gave my
swollen belly the
stethoscope and announced
the heartbeat indicated it
was another girl.
As
I pushed him out one day
before my actual birthdate,
the doctor said, here is
your son give him his
first kiss. Still
messy from the birth, I
kissed my little boy and
felt true joy for the
first time in my life.
He
was just what I wanted
when I wanted it.
As
he grew I would read to
him at night. There
was one book, TJ Flopp
that he especially enjoyed
about a tough ol bunny
called TJ. This
bunny scared everyone by
the way he stomped around
and
isolated himself.
Until
one day a lady bunny Miss
Fuzzybottom discovered a
gentleness to T.J.
She asked him what his
initials stood for, and he
explained that to his
mother he was a joyful
thing so she named him T.J.
thoroughly joyful!
How appropriate! I
read and re-read that
story to my boy and told
him all the time that he
was my T.J.
Then
overnight, he became a
man. I can't believe
that my only son of 4
children will be going out
into the world to find his
own way.
When
the girls left it was
hard, but now with my son
leaving in a few months, I
have to say that the flip
side of feeling true joy,
is feeling true
heartbreak. My
darling son, now a man,
will be a thing of joy to
some other woman and to
the world.
For
all that he is, and will
continue to be, I look
lovingly at him
remembering the joy and
who the only one was who
really gave that to
me...him.
I am going to be 38 this
year and find myself
going through the stages
of “Empty Nest
Syndrome”. I had my
children at what most
would call an extremely
early age; I had my
first when I was only 14
years old – in all I
had 4 children total.
Being
a Mom was hard work
probably a little harder
for me than it should
have been, but I quickly
learned what it meant to
be a Mother. I stayed at
home and took care of
them for the better part
of my life (with
the help of public
assistance-I ended up
being a single Mother)
but as soon as my
youngest child was old
enough – I went to
work. It was tough being
a single Mom and taking
care of my children, but
that is
exactly what I did. I
worked and took care of
them and did nothing
else. I have lived my
whole entire life
for them, with them,
about them and now they
are all growing up and
leaving me and I do not
know what to do.
My
oldest child just
graduated from college
with a Bachelor’s in
Business Administration
and will be
continuing her education
(she is working towards
a Master’s), my second
child is a Nurses
Assistant, but
is currently working as
an Optician’s
Apprentice, my third
child just graduated
from High school a
couple of months ago and
is now working for a
major grocery store
chain being trained as a
butcher (he just signed
up for his own health
insurance and has a
checking account now)
not too mention will
have his truck
completely paid off in
about a year or so (did
it all by himself)
and last but not least-
my fourth child is on
fast track to college
and only has 1 year and
1 semester left of high
school.
So although I am
extremely proud of them
all-this leaves me
scratching my head
saying “Now What”
They
have been my life for so
long, what do I do now?
I have all of these
grand ideas of how I
would like the next
stage of my life to be,
but I just do not know
how to make the
transition-I am stuck in
limbo and it is
sad and lonely here.
I
have read up on the
symptoms of “Empty
Nest” and there is no
doubt I suffer from this
depilating disease –
but what is the cure for
it?
I know
my children are only
doing what is normal –
growing up, learning to
take care of themselves,
starting their own
lives, using all of the
tools that I have given
them – so why do I
find myself angry when
they don’t
call, why do I feel like
they are abandoning me
and most of all why does
it hurt so bad?
Finding
my place in the world is
one of the hardest
things that I have had
to attempt even more so
than being a Mother. I
am fumbling around in
the dark and there is
not a light switch
within reach. I feel
like this darkness is
never going to end.
The
storm lasted for
only half an hour,
but changed my life
forever. Described
as a microsurge, the
fierce winds blew a
large tree atop my
30-plus year old
mobile home,
crashing through the
roof in two places.
We were told that
night by safety
officials to
evacuate the
property.
The
next day, my younger
daughter, 18-year
old Brianna, took
our two cats and
moved in with her
father. My older
daughter, Kathy, age
23, had already
moved out of the
mobile home, by had
been returning to it
each day for
showers, laundry and
occasional meals.
That is, until the
tree fell upon it.
It wasn't just an
old run down mobile
home to me; it was
our family home, the
place where I'd
raised Kathy and Bri
as a single parent
for over 16 years.
They were the center
of my world, many
times being my whole
world.
Two
months after the
tree fell, which
left me homeless, I
was to acquire only
a one bedroom
apartment for
myself. Now both my
daughters live with
their father and I
have a severe case
of empty nest
syndrome.
No
more late night
sleepovers, loud
music, competition
for the phone and
picking up after
them. No laughter
and support from the
two lovely young
ladies they grew to
be.
Now I try to take
each day as it
comes, with the help
of God, always
looking
forward to visits
with my daughters.
Over a year has
passed since the
tree fell on our
home, and ever so
slowly I'm
adjusting to life as
an empty nester. I
hope my story can
inspire others to go
on in the same way.
Our household ebbs
and flows with the
coming and going of
our two grown sons.
The nest is
emptying. One son is
in University and
the oldest just
graduated from
College and returned
home. On the most
part, we manage this
tidal flow well.
However this time of
life is a dance of
emotions that
requires management
and most importantly
the ability to let
go. The surprising
part is that most of
the letting go needs
to happen when the
kids are home with
us.
To Mother or Not to
Mother:
Every time they
return home our
relationship needs
to adjust from both
sides. For the boys,
they have been away
enjoying newfound
freedom.
Returning home to
the watchful,
worried and doting
eyes of Mom and Dad
feels like
regression from a
life
they can’t wait to
jump-start.
As far as I am
concerned, this
takes conscious work
in managing my
motherly
impulses
to renegotiate the
mother/son
relationship.
Switching OFF Mommy:
Here is an example
of when being Mommy
wasn’t needed nor
wanted:
Twenty one year old
son cruises over the
refrigerator, opens
door and stares
blankly at its
contents (something
he has done since he
could reach the
door). Mom walks by
and habitually
rhymes off all that
is available to him
that he may miss.
Son gives mom “the
look”. Mom
retreats away with
her motherly “need
to feed instinct”
tucked between her
legs.
Now, this seems so
trivial I am sure
you are wondering
why I even bothered
mentioning it. I am
also confident that
those of you out
there with young
adults at home can
find a myriad of
examples in the same
realm as the one
above. I sure can.
Mom, Leave Me
Alone!:
These seemingly
small intrusions add
up and infuriate
these newly
indoctrinated
adults. All they
want to feel is
trusted and capable.
Each of these small
incidents pulls at
their deepest primal
emotional memories
of us; we control
their lives. For
them,
that is the last
thing they want as
they are standing at
the edge of the
nest, flapping their
wings and trying to
fly away. This is
why their reactions
to issues that may
seem small to us can
be surprisingly
stronger than we
feel is warranted.
Although it can be
difficult for us,
especially when the
issues are larger
than the inventory
of the household
refrigerator,
controlling your
impulses to
“mother” will
truly will get you
to a better place in
the renegotiation of
this relationship. I
have worked in the
field of Emotional
Intelligence
training, assessment
and coaching. One of
the competencies
that can be the most
difficult to develop
is “Impulse
Control”.
Quick Route to
Impulse Control:
Try these six easy
steps to manage your
motherly impulses:
•
Take Stock: Sit down
and make a brief
list of the
incidents where you
felt your child balk
at you.
•
Patterns: Look at
the list and find
the commonalities
i.e. was it about
curfew, money,
dating, health,
drinking?
•
Triggers: These
common threads will
lead you directly to
some of your
emotional triggers.
BTW...One of mine is
a well-nurtured and
most likely DNA
embedded need to
feed (I am half
Italian). I am
constantly
monitoring who is
eating what, when
and how much. If you
grew up in an
Alcoholic
environment, your
triggers will most
likely include
drinking.
•
Stop: When you see
an issue arising
that includes one of
your known triggers,
STOP.
•
Reset: Take a
breath; think of
someone you love or
a happy moment in
your life. Feel it.
•
Engage: Now that you
are managing
yourself a little
better you can more
easily engage or
disengage with your
child with intention
and empathy.
The competencies,
concepts and skills
to develop Emotional
Intelligence are
well explained in
John Gottman’s
“Raising An
Emotionally
Intelligent Child”
and Daniel
Goleman’s
“Emotional
Intelligence”
amongst others.
Managing our
emotions brings
the Law of
Attraction into
action by raising
our vibrations and
puts us squarely on
the fast track to
more joy!
I’ve always
thought of myself
as a strong woman.
I was a divorced,
single mother
raising a child
alone, so knew
that I could
conquer the world.
At the age of 5,
Ashley was my
little angel. And
to her, I could do
no wrong. She
would always say,
“mommy, you are my
bestest friend.”
It was difficult
for me when she
started
kindergarten. She
looked so cute in
her pigtails and
new backpack.
While standing at
the bus stop with
Ashley and my
mother, I knew it
was the beginning
of a journey that
I was not prepared
for. As she
boarded the school
bus, I was hoping
Ashley would
change her mind,
turn around and
run into my arms.
But it didn’t
happen. When the
bus
drove away, I
headed towards the
house to get my
car keys. How
ironic it was that
my mom knew
exactly what I was
up to and
discouraged me
from following the
bus. It was that
day which marked
the beginning of
my daughter’s
journey to
independence. I
didn’t like it or
the years that
followed.
When Ashley
graduated from
high school, I
cried tears of joy
for her and sorrow
for me. Because I
knew my little
girl would be
leaving me and I
didn’t know what I
would do with
myself. I didn’t
know how to make
myself happy. How
could I when my
life centered on
Ashley. What will
I do with my life
now? Ashley was
my life.
Ashley is a
freshman in
college now and
has her own
apartment. I’m
proud of her, but
I miss her being
here.
You can never be
prepared for the
departure of your
children. All you
can do is pray you
gave them all the
tools they need
for life and hope
they remembered to
put them into
their suitcase for
the journey.
One day I woke
to an empty
house. I
searched through
all the rooms.
The beds were
still made, no
one had slept in
them last
night. There
were no clothes
hanging out of
dresser-drawers
and no clothes
piled up on the
floors. I
looked in all
the closets,
only empty
shelves and
empty hangers.
On the walls in
all their rooms
there were no
posters,
pictures or
banners, just a
few thumbtacks
and little nail
holes here and
there and
outlines of
where the
pictures and
posters had once
hung. There
were no dolls,
no toy cars,
trucks or
airplanes.
There were no
storybooks,
schoolbooks, or
anything else to
trip over or to
stub my toe on.
I listened to
the stillness.
I heard nothing.
No one was
laughing, no one
was talking, no
one was
screaming for
mercy and no one
was crying. I
heard no water
running in the
bathroom. No
one was taking a
bath, no one was
brushing their
teeth and no one
was using the
hairdryer.I went
downstairs to
the living
room. I looked
around in
amazement at how
tidy it was.
There were no
empty coke cans,
no empty potato
chip bags, no
broken up pieces
of Pizza crust.
There were no
VCR tapes or
video games
strewn about.
There were no
couch cushions
on the floor and
no dirty socks
or shoes lying
in the middle of
the floor and no
clothes draped
all over the
furniture.
I listened to
the kitchen
door. Surely my
children were in
there. I heard
no cabinet doors
opening and
shutting. There
was no sound of
cereal being
poured into a
bowl. No one
was opening the
refrigerator
door or slamming
it shut. There
was not even the
sound of toast
popping up in
the toaster I
peeked through
the kitchen
door. It was
sparkling clean,
just the way I
had left it when
I went to bed
last night.
There were no
dirty dishes in
the sink, no
empty
bread-wrappers,
no half-filled
boxes of cereal
to put away and
no bowls with
left-over milk
and cereal in
them.
Where are my
children?
Wasn't it
yesterday that I
held my first
born son in my
arms? Or could
it be yesterday
that my youngest
son moved away
from home?
Didn't my
youngest
daughter start
Kindergarten
yesterday? Or
was it yesterday
that my oldest
son joined the
Military and
left for Basic
Training?
Was it last
night that I
tucked my
children all
into bed? Or
was it yesterday
that I took my
oldest daughter
back to
college? Didn't
I help my
children with
their homework
last night? Or
was it yesterday
that my youngest
son got married?
When did my
babies grow up?
How could it
happen over
night? I've
heard it said
that time
flies. Did 28
years fly away
in one day? It
sure feels that
way. Yesterday
my children were
babies. Today
my children have
moved on and
become adults
with lives and
homes of their
own.
Do you have
something that stands out in
your mind? Maybe a really
great trip with the
family / kids / husband or
friend? A certain time of
your life that might have
had an impact on you. Maybe
you know of someone who has
touched your life in some
way? Please feel free to
submit a "Personal" story of
your own to:
emptynestmomsite@bellsout.net
with "Personal Story" in the
subject line. We'd love to
read it!
