Home Alone – “for real”

Tonight, I am home alone.  I cannot remember EVER being alone for an evening – my children are 30, 25 (the boys) and our “surprise” a girl who just turned 16.

The boys are both married, and my precious little girl is sleeping over at a friend’s house.  Her being allowed this was a bit of an ambush by 3 of her friends, as her dad is away on a golf tour.

The pizza I bought for tonight, packet of chippies, slab of choc and juice is on the counter. I have the TV on the News Channel (which is probably not the best option) and I sit writing this with the need to share how fleeting your time with your children is. Most parents on this group have young children.  Treasure EVERY SINGLE MOMENT.  The tantrums, the sleepless nights, the spilled milk,….  When these experiences and challenges leave your life, it is almost as if your purpose is deleted.  I obviously do not speak for everyone, just me. I am battling to find my grounding without the hectic shopping and having to take care of the needs of a “family”.

A part of me was somehow “alt control deleted”.

I cannot begin to explain how quickly the lives of your children under your roof, being guided by your influence and knowing your unconditional love, is. My boys left home at almost the same time – one getting married and the other moving to be close to university.  My reaction was completely unexpected.   I am a successful businesswoman, I am busy, I am independent. How then did I go into mourning?  I did.  A part of me was somehow “alt control deleted”. How do I fill this void?

I remember Fridays at the long table on the patio where friends were always welcome, and conversations were controversial and debated heatedly.  I yearn for those days.  I want to mash 12 potatoes and dish up 8 plates of food with all my heart.  I longed so for my boys that I became overwhelmed with loss.

This stage of my life is the most difficult I have ever experienced – when, in earlier years and insecurities seemed so important – I realise that I was too busy, too busy being busy, too busy being perceived as successful and blindfolded to the everyday miracle of my children.

Empty Nest??? What a gross understatement.  I am sure there are people that love their children just as much as I do mine, who cope better with the newfound freedom with glee. Me?  Do I call to often?  Why don’t they invite me over?  Should I be inviting myself over?  It’s a crazy time.

I have signed up for a painting course, offered Manners4Minors lessons to the under-privileged school in my area and am reading more.

So, tomorrow night my baby girl will be home (although at 16 her bedroom door is closed most of the time), I will attempt not to work at night, listen attentively to the drama of 16 year old girls in a classroom, get the proper skin toner and let her sleep till 11 on weekends.

Tonight, home alone, I will start with the slab of chocolate and perhaps have some pizza after.  Home will never be the same so I will have to do it upside down perhaps from now on.

This is what I now understand to be the circle of life.  Is this an Earth to Mars reaction or does anyone relate?

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