2nd Day of Empty Nesting...Kidlets

As an Empty-Nested parent, I have many regrets, but I am eternally thankful that wishing my kidlets' childhoods away isn't one of them.

I was never the mom that couldn't wait for the kids to leave home.  I was never the mom that shouted, "Why don't you grow up???"  I knew somehow, even then, that while the days were long, the years would be short, and I determined to enjoy.  Or at least to endure if enjoyment eluded.

Looking back, which I do with regularity, I often find myself wondering why I did this, or why I failed to do that.  It is a mystery to me today, looking back through the years with the clarity and wisdom of hindsight.  Whaaaat in world could I have been thinking?????  Only God knows, at this point.  Only on my behalf may I say that sometimes I was so mired down I could just barely manage to function.   I spent years when my only feeling was "Overwhelmed."  I felt Overwrought and Overtired.  Overrun.  Overworked.  Overdone.  Overused.  And all the time, the kidlets were growing up and away, surely and unstoppably dragging me closer and closer to the Empty Nest.

They grew into every parent's dream.  Sensible, responsible adults.  Contributing, productive members of society all.  I am soooo proud of them.  Honored and flattered to be their mother.  And if I am honest I have to own up that they succeeded in spite of me.  That's a humbling thought.

It took 35 years to see the process completely through, but sure enough, one day, the years ended.  And the kidlets were gone, to be replaced by those remarkable men and women.   

Me...I find myself unshakably bonded with Christopher Morley, the man who confessed, "We've had bad luck with our kids - they've all grown up."

1st Day of Empty Nesting...Intro

31 Days of......what?????

Hmm ... After much deliberation I chose "Empty Nesting."  I have been in training for the Empty Nest for the last few years, and as of July, the transition is complete.  It is final.  It is irrevocable.

There is a lot of pain in the change, and added to so many other things going on here in the last couple of years, the pain has been intense and pervasive.

But I want to find hope.  

There are two sides to everything, so.... 

Empty Nest = Despair and Depression and Sadness?  

Or Empty Nest = Freedom?

To both questions may I say a resounding YESSSS!!!!!!

Day 2...Kidlets

Day 3...Pizza Night 

Day 4...Boys

Day 5...Good Night

Day 6...Eggs

Day 7...Reprieve
 
Day 8...Pause

Day 9...Relentless

Day 10...Style Show 

Day 11...Good Bye

Day 12...Math 

Day 13...Dinner

Day 14...Laundry 

Day 15...Church

Day 16...Shopping 

Day 17...Illusions/Delusions

 

Five-Minute Friday...GRASP

It Will Never Be the Same

I am going through some things in my life right now.  Lots of reflection and introspection and feelings of loss.  This summer we have been from the cradle to the grave.  New baby, living room redo, college graduation, wedding, surgery, and funeral.  I think that about covers it.

It has left me kinda at sea.  What is next?   

I am a writer in my heart.  But with so much chaos in my life...it's something I haven't done in too long.  I want to get back in it.  So...YAY! for Five-Minute Friday!  And thank you to my pal Cindy for the connection.

Last Sunday we went to church with our son and dil.  It's the first time we have been to their church.  It was pretty different than what we are used to, but I listened attentively to a very good sermon.  It was about grief and forgiveness, and the 23rd Psalm.  There was the usual Power Point list, and.... 

#4... "Accept that it will never be the same."   

"It will never be the same" grasped my attention like nothing has in quite awhile.  I am trying to remind myself every day when I am feeling sad and lost, that things go on.  Never the same again, but it can still be good.  Nothing is without God's hand.

I really need to GRASP that thought.

  

RAIN!!!!!

It's a good thing we sleep with our windows open, because there's nothing like waking up in the middle of the night with the sound of rain and thunder roaring in your ears, the smell of petrichor wafting through the room, the feel of a fresh breeze blowing on your skin, and the coolness of raindrops plopping on your face. In the middle of the drought of the century.

YESSSSSS!!!!!!

HOWDY From HELL

It's bad when Satan comes around and has to go back because it is too hot out here. That's what it's been like around here all flaming summer long.

Record hot temperatures. Record number of days over 100 degrees. Record number of consecutive days over 100 degrees. Record hot highs. Record hot lows. And how about this: we have even had the case of our low temperature being higher than the reigning record high temperature on a given date. I don't even know what kind of record to call that?

Oh, and did I mention that, according to our friendly neighborhood weatherman, we are in the middle of a 7-year drought? AAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Well into September, after day after day of a blazing season, we finally got a cool front! Though when "cool" means "down in the 90's," it doesn't mean much. But, we get what we get, and in this case, we were glad to get it.

We turned off the a/c, we opened the windows, and I even psyched myself up to fire up the oven and cook, for the first time since April. We loved this for almost a whole week! But then Monday came along, and suddenly GOTCHA!! Back over 100 degrees, and a new record: fully one-quarter of this year has been given over to the infernity of 100-degree days.

Are there any records left? I'm afraid to know.

One of my favorite pieces of Texana trivia is the parting speech given by Davy Crockett to his once-constituents after losing his bid for re-election to the Tennessee State House of Representatives: "You all can go to hell, I'm going to Texas."

Well, Davy, after sweating through this steaming, screaming, searing, swearing, simmering, sweltering, sizzling, scorching summer season, I am beginning to wonder if you didn't get the two mixed up...

The Fountain Of Youth

I'VE FOUND IT!!!!!

When I get up in the morning, everything hurts. My muscles are stiff, my back hurts, my plantar fasciitis is agonizing. I suck it up and gut it out: I walk on the treadmill, work in the garden, chase little kids, move the chicken house, hang out the laundry, and after a day of lifting that bale and toting that barge, I feel every day of my years. Long before bedtime, I am ready to give in, and I'm not surprised when I wake up with Charley Horse a few hours later. That's the way it is at home.

But here! Out here in magical California, things are different! I cook, fetch and carry, do errands, work in the garage, take out the dumpsters (ours and the neighbors' for a grand total of seven, and those suckers are heavy!). Throw in my little mother and her sister to take care of, and just like at home, it adds up to hard labor. By 7 o'clock, it's bedtime at the old folks' home. They are all tucked into their recliners, in their pj's, for an evening of Mexican Dr. Phil. I've still got hours to go, but you know what, NOTHING HURTS!!!

So. What's the deal? Do I recommend California? Nope. I've given this some thought, and I'm pretty sure I've got it figured out.

At home, I am just about the oldest person around, but here...well, the opposite. There is no Fountain of Youth, not really. What there is though, is two old great/grandmas, and there's nothing like a couple of 80+yo's to make a 50-something grandma feel like a KID!

In the final analysis, it's all kinda "relative"....

Flying Through Phoenix

It isn't that I fly to LA all that often or anything, but every time I do, I find myself in Phoenix. And every time, the same thing happens. It goes like this:

We are making good time. Not only are we on time, we are a few minutes early. So far so good. But as soon as we land, we come to a stop, and the captain announces that our gate is occupied and we will just cool our w/heels out here on the fringes for a "few minutes" until our gate is free.

We settle down to wait, and from then on, every five minutes we hear, "It should just be another few minutes." This goes on enough times that my one-plus-hour layover ends up shortened by 25%. The flight attendant optimistically informs me that a run is probably not required, but a hustle will definitely be helpful, and don't worry, there are golf carts and moving sidewalks. So, I don't worry, but I tie on my running shoes and prepare to sprint.

Even 45 minutes is do-able for a grandma in fairly decent shape, but the minute I step into the terminal, I see that a run may not be a bad idea, because I have de-barked at this end of the "B" gates, and my connecting flight is alllllllllll the way at that end of the "A" gates.

The race is on! And God bless the man who invented wheels on suitcases. I just wish that was the kind of suitcase I had right now.

Sky Harbor is well-marked, and it takes just a quick glance to locate the "A Gates" arrow. I scurry over to the sign and behold a corridor stretching to eternity. I can't even see the other end. Fortunately there is a moving sidewalk. It would be even more fortunate if it worked. But that would be a lot to expect at this point, wouldn't it, so I gird up my loins and start the first mile.

Lo and behold! The second leg of the moving sidewalk is moving, and I hop on! "Stand on the right/Walk on the left," the sign says, and that's cool, except that the sign doesn't say how fast to walk, and it only takes one minute for me to catch up to the next walker who is taking his Sunday stroll. There is no way to pass, so I fall in and slow my step to match his, which leaves me frantically cooling my heels and see myself being overtaken, and passed, by the horde that spurned the hi-tech sidewalk in favor of only their own foot power.

The moving sidewalk finally reaches the end of the terminal. I think. But when I get off...PSYYYYCH! It's only the corner in a 90-degree turn, and off to the right stretches another endless hallway. "A" gates all, but mine is nowhere in sight.

I spit on my hands, hoist my non-wheeled case over my shoulder, and gird up my loins, rejecting the moving sidewalk to take off on my own. Sure enough, I easily pass the suckers walkers on the moving sidewalk. Coming to one last moving sidewalk, which I also bypass, I can see my gate coming up in the nebulous distance. YAY! There is light at the end of the tunnel!

I really don't know what I'm worried about. This event is scripted and finely tuned, and I have participated enough times to know how it comes out: I will make it to the gate in plenty to time to make my flight.

What I should be worried about is what comes next: KALIFORNIA.