I'm an Empty Nester - well newly empty nester. Both my children are in college. One is getting ready to graduate and my daughter is a freshman. Interestingly enough my oldest stayed local to attend a state school. I believe God's way of helping me adjust to letting my first baby go. I am so grateful that I could drop by with fresh laundry and warm meals... medicine when the first year was plagued with illness (dorm room life) and a dinner when those heart pangs of missing your baby hit. We were fortunate to be close enough to go to his lacrosse games and managed well with the beginning of our transition.
Three years later, my daughter selected a college far away - God only gives you what you can handle right?! Well I keep telling myself that. She's been my independent thinker from 2 months old - she decided to stop nursing, at 15 months she wanted to dress herself and would fight me every morning as we rushed to get out the door to work and daycare, at 4 years old she cut her own bangs because all her friends had bangs... I vividly remember her coming out of bathroom with a ball cap on to hide her achievement and her grin when we saw her handy work. In my deepest frustration, I'd tell myself over and over, in a body hugging rocking chant, that these were all GREAT qualities to have as a girl. Strong, determined, knows what she wants and gets it kind of girl! YUP, that's my girl. So when she selected to go to college in Milwaukee, WI... I didn't flinch. Well I did, but knew she could handle it. With a tearful goodbye's she was in her dorm ready to start her college career as a D1 student athlete. Dorm life here was no different from my son's... illness after illness plagued her first semester... a cough that wouldn't quit... so much congestion it gagged her, coughing that whooped and caused her to throw up... so hard that she cracked a rib. The 2am face-time calls with her sobbing after an attack and being 14 hour drive away was brutal. Fall break doctor visit, thanksgiving break another doctor visit, and finally at winter break another doctor visit that did the trick (either that or her immune system finally figured it out)... plus all the TLC that only a mom can bring. ahhh... finally relief. I think I can relax and enjoy the silence of an empty nest!
My husband and I are beginning to figure out the pace and cadence of being empty nesters... enjoying cooking meals that appeal to OUR taste buds, snuggle into the couch for some old time movies like rear window and converse over camera angles and the cinematography. Dinners out and visits with friends. All is right with the world!
Then comes our first road trip - 22 hour round trip to my daughter's game. Now I'm not going to say it was all awful, but you learn a lot about your relationship when you're confined to a vehicle for that long. He does the driving, I do the air braking and sound the alarm when the car in front is breaking and he's still accelerating. (He knows of course.) I comment on the speed level by how queasy my stomach gets at passing scenery and have noticed the more tired he becomes the heavier the foot is... I've learned to cover my eyes as we pass tractor trailers with cement medians to our left and barely a whisper between us... I feel like I am constantly reaching back to the cooler for a snack or beverage, providing a scratch on his back or massage a neck as he proceeds. I do these loving gestures to let him know I appreciate him driving and is secretly my way of keeping him awake and alert. But, I'd like to know who wrote the rule that driver gets to select the music? and how often you will stop for breaks... I'm an active participant in this travel and working for my ride... His parents may have provided a jar on their long family trips but that's not going to work for me - I'm not a 10 year old boy who enjoyed that... and we'll stop in :30 minutes doesn't cut it either, when you gotta go you gotta go! I try to distract myself with a game of candy crush and liking posts on waze, a drivers best companion, and am thankful that the car needs fuel. The moans from trying to get your legs to work again and your back to straighten up are tell tale signs that I am NOT that 10 year old little boy. We repeat the above until we get to see our little girl and all is right with the world again... until the next road trip!
