Thursday, June 9, 2016
I think I might puke
My older daughter moves to Montana to play soccer in August. My house will be void of the laughter, screaming and messes made by college students. At times, the idea of that comforts me. My house will be cleaner, my electricity bill will decrease, my groceries will last longer. However, this child and all of her friends who consider my home their second, some of them their first home, will be gone. My house will be silent, close to empty. I'm not sure how that will affect me.
My younger daughter will probably still live at home. She wants to go to school, but she has decided to work through the fall and then decide where to go. For her, I think this is a wise decision. Though she will be here, she will have a full time job. She is very independent and likes to go out with her friends. It would not surprise me if she moved out sooner rather than later.
At times I'm like, "When are you leaving already?" Because I think I'm ready and want my basement back, and my house clean, and to enjoy a pee or a shower without interruption (yes, this continues well into their young adulthood). My body wash, underwear, forks, coffee cups, and shoes won't disappear anymore.
But where will that leave me?
Alone. Old. A single person with adult children, shower items, pieces of silverware and clothing intact and accounted for. I will have all the time in the world on my hands outside of work. Cleaning less, cooking less. No more nagging at them the way mothers do, to do their homework, clean their rooms and pick up after themselves. This is ideal, right?
Then why do I feel sick?
All I can do is wish for their happiness, health and safety. Pray that they don't get hurt. That they succeed at whatever it is they want. For me, I wish to find someone to fill some of that void. To spend some time with so I don't resort to 20 cats or talking to myself...too much (I already do that anyway, just a little, I swear).
So here I am writing this blog on the night of my last child's graduation. Sick, worried, sad, proud, happy, overjoyed really. And I know we have the summer, most of it anyway, but I can't stop thinking about the silence and emptiness of this house. My big yard. My life. My heart.
But every parent reaches this point, right? The time to let go. To allow our children to become the adults, the unique people they were meant to be. And for me to become something other than Mary and Rachel's mom. For me to find whatever it is that is out there beyond motherhood.
Congrats to all the graduates, both college and high school in this class of 2016. And to all you parents going through the same thing...I feel ya.
My Dad. He's awesome.
John Messina, Personal Injury Attorney