I did not adjust easily to the empty nest way of life. I was not the one dancing, celebrating with a glass of wine, a hoot and a holler while basking in the emptiness of my nest, rejoicing in my “freedom.” Nope. I crashed. And crashed hard. I can honestly say this has been the most difficult phase of parenthood.
My mama (rest her soul) called it years ago when she looked at me and asked, “What are you going to do when these kids grow up?” I brushed the question off without a second thought. That was a long way off after all. It seemed like that would never be the case. But it was, darn it. Those kids went and grew up and developed their own lives – independent of me and my husband. Sure they would call and ask advice, or seek encouragement, or share some exciting news, but at the end of the day they were living their own lives. Wasn’t that something to be celebrated? They were taking care of themselves. We had done our job. But that’s not how I saw it…..
“We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.” – Anais Nin
I wasn’t done. I hadn’t accomplished all that I wanted to with my kids….or FOR my kids. I felt like I had fallen short….like I hadn’t completed my job. Now to my kids that sounds like they are failures. But that’s not what I mean at all! They were not failures. I was the failure. Because I wanted them to have more than I gave them. I wanted them to be better set up for life. So you see, I wasn’t anywhere near ready for an empty nest….because I felt like I hadn’t finished my job.
I won’t bore you with the details of what I felt like I was inadequate in providing, but they are to the tune of university, braces, trust funds, etc. Now granted our two boys chose of their own volition to not attend college. Our daughter graduated with an Associates of Science in Veterinary Technology and is currently employed in her field of study. Our boys are gainfully employed as well – one as a sous chef (a position his tenacity and long suffering earned him) and one at a heavy-equipment-moving company (at which he is growing rapidly much to the delight of his supervisors). In spite of their current success in the job market, the lack of their attendance to a four year college nags at me. Another sore spot – the absence of braces (something that 99% of today’s youth don) on their teeth during adolescence is something that haunts me to this day. As adults, our boys refuse to wear such devices, and with a couple of very traumatic visits to the dentist resulting in PTSD our oldest son bears the greatest risk to his oral health. I feel like other insignificant things took priority over orthodontics (though regular dental visits were maintained) – specifically mine and my husband’s premature hobbies. But if you ask our kids, they don’t see it that way at all.
Add to all of this the “myriad of mistakes” I made as their mom – missed opportunities, over reactions, under reactions, words misspoken, the list is endless….in my mind. Often I lain paralyzed in the middle of the night by these tormenting thoughts and memories. My kids weren’t present so that I could appease myself by offering apologies (sometimes for the millionth time) or make an extra effort to have some special time with them (though any time with my kids was special). I was alone in my thought processes with little support or guidance as my husband did not share in my despair. He was quite enjoying this empty nest way of life, confident that he had fulfilled his parental responsibilities and now was able to devote more time to his beloved hobby of sailing…..thoroughly enjoying his liberty. (We have jokingly named his boat, “Otra Mujer” – The Other Woman). And remember, we were living on a ranch….in the middle of nowhere. At least that’s how it felt. (To bring clarity, there was a reservoir about 20 minutes away from the ranch where my husband kept his boat and sailed regularly).
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” – Theodore Roosevelt
You see, I compared my life and the lives of our children to the picture perfect scenarios seemingly experienced by friends of mine whose children did attend four-year universities. You know the scene in Hollywood depictions – the parents dropping their beloved child off at college, possibly helping set up their dorm room, saying their tearful good byes; the empty bedroom at home that remains undisturbed until the son or daughter returns home for a long-anticipated visit.
To the same degree, every time I meet a kid with braces my heart sinks a little. My feeling of parental failure surfaces.
There are a variety of “imperfections” in my mothering (too many to name) that I afflict myself with, aggravated further by the unhealthy practice of comparison.
Now these comparisons are not only harmful to myself and my self-worth but to my poor kiddos as well! I didn’t recognize that until recently when my eldest son resounded how it made him feel. When I expressed regret about my shortcomings as a mother it discounted his memories of his childhood, which he emphasized are quite wonderful. Rather than contempt toward me, he has gratitude and a fond recall of his life as a youth. He even conveyed his pride in my equitation (something I contrarily felt horribly guilty about because of the cost of both money and time).
“What screws us up the most in life is the picture in our head of how it’s supposed to be.” – Jeremy Binns
In reality, my difficult transition into empty nest living had more to do with my perception rather than actual short comings. I have so much to be thankful for! I have a wonderful family with plenty of memories of good times. Our kids love each other and us. We all have health to be grateful for. We have always been provided for…and then some. We are all still neatly tucked within the beautiful state of Colorado. Was it perfect? Far from it! But it’s our story, our journey…nobody else’s. We had things to impart to our children that no one else could. Our unique experiences occurred because we had lessons to learn. Other people have other lessons to learn. A “mistake” is only a “mistake” if you don’t learn from it and apply what you have learned. I recently received this great advice from a short article on comparison entitled “Comparison Is The Thief of Joy” – “Judge your work by your principles and leave comparison out of the equation.” Note taken.
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