Regardless of what is going on in our family’s life, I have always looked at back-to-school time and Thanksgiving as a special time of reflection, memories and celebration. However, this season, things feel different. I am very grateful for the traditions, the relationship and the beauty of my extended family. But this time around, every emotion and nerve ending is exacerbated by the fact that this is my second Thanksgiving without my amazing father and the first without my beloved father-in-law. And on top of that, I am now an empty nester (as is my husband obviously, but he handles life transitions better than I do).
Our youngest graduated from college and is out in the world pursuing her chosen career with gusto and living in a big city. And our youngest started college this fall with the appropriate (but painful for me) level of separation and independence. No one needed me to buy school supplies at the local Staples (which in my world is a treasured lifecycle event). Apartments were chosen without needing my input. Roommates took responsibility for decor (no moms needed). If one more person says to me, “If your kids are out in the world doing their thing independently, you have done a good job?”, I might scream. What exactly is my job now? What do I do when days go by and no one asks my opinion (even if I feel quite confident my perspective could be valuable)?
But today, I feel a bit as if I am being downsized, in my role as a mother. I can still reach back into my mind and recall bemoaning that I would never have one second for a minute by myself, time for a breath or even the freedom of going to the bathroom without someone knocking on the door or calling me with some “emergency”.
I don’t miss that unconscious and constant tension in my stomach constantly worrying about my kids, and figuring out how to get from a meeting or an airport to a teacher conference or a sporting event, making sure that their emotional needs and physical needs were being met. And I don’t miss the complex spreadsheets I made detailing who had to be where, being driven by whom, projects to be completed, school assignments to be started - especially when work required me to be out of town. In the interest of full disclosure, even when my kids were younger, they were not aggressively asking for my help or soliciting my input. But at least I still felt useful and valued. I had a job to do and a critical role to fill.
But this phase requires much more observation from the sidelines. I am constantly walking that emotional tightrope of making sure I am available, but not intrusive, helpful, but not interfering, attentive, but not meddling. Sometimes I am overcome with a desire to share my copious opinions about their choices, about their decisions – even about the extremely limited amount of information they share. And I am left to comfort myself with the idea that hopefully we have given them the tools they need to make all of the important and trivial decisions in their lives, or to think about what they say, and understand the consequences of their actions.
Are you kidding me? So no one will be sitting on my lap during the festive Thanksgiving meal. So maybe next year, I will have made progress on this emotional journey.