Where am I, now that I’ve arrived?
5.31.09
In the introduction to this blog, I posed two questions about my journey of seeing my child leave the nest: How will it affect all of us? Will I fall apart?
It’s time to address those questions, as this will be my last post. (I’m sad — I’ll really miss it!)
As for the first question, Sean did very well! I’m so proud of the choices that he made and how well he handled the transition academically, socially, and emotionally. (For his assessment of how he did, read the 5.30.09 post, called “SEAN SPEAKS!”)
Alex handled Sean’s absence just fine, too, from what I could see. He’s much more stoic than I am (which, I see, can come in handy sometimes), so that wasn’t a surprise. Claire missed Sean, to be sure, but she did well also. She has a lot of friends and many things that she does in school and outside of it, so I think the transition to life without Sean around wasn’t all that difficult for her. And what of our dog, Ginger? Well, she sleeps a lot and may not have even realized that he was gone. I know she’ll appreciate the extra attention that Sean will give her this summer, though, and I’ll appreciate the funny things that he says to her.
I, of course, had the hardest time. I was, as you perhaps read, a whiner, a sniveler, and a big pile of crazy at times, and I thank you kindly for your indulgence as you slogged your way through all of that. At least I did see that coming, though. I’m certainly self-aware enough to have predicted that I’d have my weepy moments.
What I didn’t see coming was receiving a breast-cancer diagnosis in the fall, or deciding with my husband that his taking a job out of state right after that would be a prudent idea — both during the year when our first child went to college. But, as someone wisely said to me once, “La vida te da sorpresas”: life gives you surprises. It sure as heck does.
All of these experiences have taught — or retaught — me so much about the value of gratitude, and the notion that things could always, always be worse. And those are not bad lessons to be reminded of at age 47.
To explore the second question, I’m glad to say that I didn’t fall apart. I certainly had my moments, and I’m sure they’ll return when Sean leaves again — perhaps for good, as we may learn in retrospect — in August. But, in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy his presence. We have Claire’s departure coming up in a couple of years, too, so I need to gear up for that.
I was talking to a mom the other night who sent her only child off to college in New York City this year, and she said that even though it was very hard, she had figured out before he left what she wanted to do when she grew up and was pursuing it, and that had helped her a lot. Wise advice for anyone.
We’ve decided to take a family trip to France in June, and that may turn out to be a turning point in many ways. Alex should have his out-of-state stint wrapped up by then and will either be on to “the next right thing,” or will be in a state of glorious rejuvenation (and even reinvention?) of self during the summer months. I plan to continue on the path that I’ve been mulling over for the last few months — like the mom I just mentioned, figuring out for sure (I hope) what I want to do with the next phase of my life. And, of course, we’ll be able to enjoy what will probably be the last big trip with our two precious kids.
Sometimes you see things coming, and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes life does give you surprises, and then sometimes you surprise yourself by handling them better than you thought you could.
Thank you so much for riding along with me on my journey. I know at times it’s been boring (I admit that), but the nature of blogs being what they are — rather Seinfeldian, as they’re often about nothing — I suppose that was to be expected. At times I’ve had to dig deep to find something to write about, but now that it’s over, I wonder if there’s so much more that I’d like to say…? I guess I’ll just have to keep it to myself now.
Anyway, it’s been greatly cathartic to share what I’ve thought and felt this year, and I hope that it’s helped you, too, to know that you have not been alone.
In the end, we did all right., and I did not fall apart. It’s all good.
Happy trails to you and your Badger child this summer — and in the fruitful years to come. On, Wisconsin!
It’s time to address those questions, as this will be my last post. (I’m sad — I’ll really miss it!)
As for the first question, Sean did very well! I’m so proud of the choices that he made and how well he handled the transition academically, socially, and emotionally. (For his assessment of how he did, read the 5.30.09 post, called “SEAN SPEAKS!”)
Alex handled Sean’s absence just fine, too, from what I could see. He’s much more stoic than I am (which, I see, can come in handy sometimes), so that wasn’t a surprise. Claire missed Sean, to be sure, but she did well also. She has a lot of friends and many things that she does in school and outside of it, so I think the transition to life without Sean around wasn’t all that difficult for her. And what of our dog, Ginger? Well, she sleeps a lot and may not have even realized that he was gone. I know she’ll appreciate the extra attention that Sean will give her this summer, though, and I’ll appreciate the funny things that he says to her.
I, of course, had the hardest time. I was, as you perhaps read, a whiner, a sniveler, and a big pile of crazy at times, and I thank you kindly for your indulgence as you slogged your way through all of that. At least I did see that coming, though. I’m certainly self-aware enough to have predicted that I’d have my weepy moments.
What I didn’t see coming was receiving a breast-cancer diagnosis in the fall, or deciding with my husband that his taking a job out of state right after that would be a prudent idea — both during the year when our first child went to college. But, as someone wisely said to me once, “La vida te da sorpresas”: life gives you surprises. It sure as heck does.
All of these experiences have taught — or retaught — me so much about the value of gratitude, and the notion that things could always, always be worse. And those are not bad lessons to be reminded of at age 47.
To explore the second question, I’m glad to say that I didn’t fall apart. I certainly had my moments, and I’m sure they’ll return when Sean leaves again — perhaps for good, as we may learn in retrospect — in August. But, in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy his presence. We have Claire’s departure coming up in a couple of years, too, so I need to gear up for that.
I was talking to a mom the other night who sent her only child off to college in New York City this year, and she said that even though it was very hard, she had figured out before he left what she wanted to do when she grew up and was pursuing it, and that had helped her a lot. Wise advice for anyone.
We’ve decided to take a family trip to France in June, and that may turn out to be a turning point in many ways. Alex should have his out-of-state stint wrapped up by then and will either be on to “the next right thing,” or will be in a state of glorious rejuvenation (and even reinvention?) of self during the summer months. I plan to continue on the path that I’ve been mulling over for the last few months — like the mom I just mentioned, figuring out for sure (I hope) what I want to do with the next phase of my life. And, of course, we’ll be able to enjoy what will probably be the last big trip with our two precious kids.
Sometimes you see things coming, and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes life does give you surprises, and then sometimes you surprise yourself by handling them better than you thought you could.
Thank you so much for riding along with me on my journey. I know at times it’s been boring (I admit that), but the nature of blogs being what they are — rather Seinfeldian, as they’re often about nothing — I suppose that was to be expected. At times I’ve had to dig deep to find something to write about, but now that it’s over, I wonder if there’s so much more that I’d like to say…? I guess I’ll just have to keep it to myself now.
Anyway, it’s been greatly cathartic to share what I’ve thought and felt this year, and I hope that it’s helped you, too, to know that you have not been alone.
In the end, we did all right., and I did not fall apart. It’s all good.
Happy trails to you and your Badger child this summer — and in the fruitful years to come. On, Wisconsin!
| 1. August 10 2009 11:35 PM | Thank you so much-our oldest child enters UW in a couple of weeks, and I've really been having a hard time. Your entries sound like I could have written them, we sound so similar. Your blog has been extremely helpful and valuable to me. Michele --Posted by Michele Stoffel-Rosales | |
