Monday, April 19, 2010

Empty Nester Myths

Empty Nester Myths

Before my last child left our home for college, I often would hear other mothers wail about their children and how they can't wait until such son or such daughter turns 18 and leaves their house so they can finally "do the things they often wished they could do but couldn't because they had children". 

This will be the third year since my last child left and I am still trying to figure out what it is that I can 'finally do' now that all my children are gone. Not that I had any aspirations prior to being left alone by my eager college-bound children. That day came suddenly like a thief in the night. Or more like an anticipated hurricane of a magnitude never before anticipated. It has turned my life upside-down.

I asked another mother much older than me about being an empty-nester and she ruefully confided that most of what she feels is longing for the time to roll back so she can enjoy her children more, appreciate them more and undo some of the things she did because she was too uptight. Frankly, I have no such feelings and honestly feel that I did all I could do within the limitations of my experiences and circumstances. More so, I really did enjoy each of my children with a passion bordering on obsession. 

When I was a young woman....long before I got married, my aspirations were ever so different. I wanted a career. I did not want children. Children scared the crap out of me....and they still do...unless they are mine or my grandchildren. I never baby-sat, never took care of an infant. My world was small and I dedicated myself to....me. I fancied myself as smart and intellectual so I had no desire to learn any domestic skills other than cooking gourmet food which I considered an art rather than a domestic necessity.

Music was once a huge passion of mine. Then I took painting classes and that became another lovely vocation that I wanted to pursue full-time---well, anything that had to do with art---photography, watercolour, oil painting, mixed media. I also had a notion that I had to write a book. And compile my musical arrangements of Primary songs. I also loved to teach. And travel.

These are the things I can finally pursue now that I am an....empty-nester. But my passion for these things have waned when I discovered to my dismay that my role as a 'mother' has now drastically changed. Suddenly nothing trumps being a mother---the kind of mother that I used to be when my children were young and...home.

It is a myth that being an empty-nester can give you more time to indulge in your passions. I am still having a difficult time adjusting.

Intellectually, I know that of course, when I've finally 'adjusted'...whatever the hell that means, I can pursue those interests that I used to have. I also know that now that I am alone with the man of my dreams---who still is the object of my affection---we can finally indulge in all those things we used to dream of doing together. Perhaps more travels, more time to indulge in the arts and as soon as we can set ourselves up, a mission for the church. I feel that there is not enough redemptive value attached to these. But I know that I should focus on these things. It is a battle between what I know and what I feel. Nobody warned me about this phenomenon.

Anyway, I put one foot in front of the other and go through the motions of every day life with nary a direction, purpose nor destination.

And for now, I feel lost. And suddenly old.

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On a side note: I have not slept well in weeks and the effects are showing. I do try to nap after returning from seminary but can't. Every time I put my head down, I immediately wake-up or if I do get lucky and catch a few winks, I wake up more tired and disoriented.

Today, we had three guys from our ward finish installing two sets of French doors and some stucco work. It was very noisy. Just like when the kids used to bang around the house with their instruments. I immediately felt sleepy and for the first time in weeks, I slept for 45 minutes like a baby. It was restful. The noise lulled me to sleep and relaxation. That's odd. But that's what happened.

A Functioning Insomniac