Chronicles From The Empty Nest
Repost from August, 2012
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. The clock keeps moving. I've avoided thinking about it all day but that darn clock keeps reminding me of how many days and hours and minutes I have left. What wonderful friends and family I have who have all commented, written or called today to make me feel better. I particularly love one statement from someone who reminded me that Dorothy didn't set off down that yellow brick road alone. She was with her friends and they all brought something to the table. Cue Glinda and the munchkins.
My husband and boy were fishing the last three days in Key West. They crammed in one last bonding trip at the 11th hour. I was feeling a little robbed of time, but when they came home today I took one look at them and realized they needed this time together. I think I got it for the first time that my husband is feeling the same way I do, but grieving in a different way. Being tough, holding it all in, teaching his boy to be a man. I was really glad they went. They had a chance to make one more memory and the opportunity to teach a few more life lessons.
I've gotten super pissed at my husband this past year as he has reminded me how it will soon be "our time" and how we are going to finally get to live! I hated when he would say that because I felt like I wasn't living if the four of us were not all together. He envisions a life of spontaneity with no rules and no calendar full of appointments. No endless to-do lists. No interruptions at the bedroom or bathroom door and no late nights wondering just when the hell our kids are going to come waltzing in.
I guess that doesn't sound so bad. Maybe he's on to something. Maybe I was just pissed because I never allowed myself to "just be." Maybe I wish I could just "go with the flow" more, like he does. Or maybe I just am really tired of being the grown-up, responsible one all the time.
Well, the car is packed and alarm is set . . . off to college we go in the morning! Thankfully I have two more full days before my daughter heads off for her senior year. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Damn clock.