Filling the empty

Being an empty nester can feel. Well, empty. I spent so many years with my kids as the primary focus, that there is a big emptiness when they are not there. For the first couple of years it was great. More time, more freedom. I thought there would be less worry, but that isn’t really the case. I still worry about them, I just seldom know if my worrying is justified. I start thinking I have some psychic connection and if I’m feeling anxious or worried, there must be something wrong with one of them! Ha, that can really make you crazy. Should I call and seem like a silly old lady? What if I don’t and they really need me? Should I call all three?

But there is a positive thing that I’m beginning to realize now, after almost 10 years of empty nesting. I’m beginning to enjoy how amazing it is to interact with my kids as adults. To enjoy them and the amazing people they have become. Without feeling responsible for their lives.

When they were little I had to be a mom first, and me second. The worst thing about single parenting isn’t the exhaustion. Working full time, taking care of the house, living paycheck to paycheck on a good month, helping with homework, driving here and there, keeping track of where they were and who they were with. I got used to exhaustion the first week of being a parent.

What was worse was as a single mom most of the time, I really had to be both mom and dad. There was no tough parent, soft parent dynamic. I had to be both, and figure out when. When things were crazy there was no one to confer with, come to a decision with. Which were big issues to stand firm on, which were little stuff.

But my biggest issue was fear that I would let them down. Me, personally, not my Mom Self. That I would get sick or just burn out. That this was just too big of a job and I wasn’t qualified. That my introverted, quirky, socially clumsy self was a terrible role model for these precious babies. That I would miss some very important thing in their life, that I would miss a turning point that would take them down a bad road just because I wasn’t paying attention. That I wasn’t showing them enough love, or that I was being too soft. That my guilt would lead me to overcompensate and be soft. That I would be selfish and weak.  It was all on me. If I wasn’t there, the options for them were not something I could live with. It kept me up at night and followed me like a little black cloud.

But I must have done okay. Or they are smart enough to work their way past my failures. However it worked out they are all loving, productive, content, thoughtful, creative adults! I’m not taking credit for how they turned out. You can be the best parent in the world and still have a child who struggles. But for me in this empty nester part of my life, I can finally relax. I can talk with them, text and email and all the other things. I can visit and enjoy being with them. And I can be just me. And just love them. And if I screw something up now, well it’s just going to affect me, not three other innocent people. But you know, I’m not so worried about that anymore. I’ve done okay so far, maybe I can keep it up after all.