We are born and raised by our parents. Those precious few years of play and discovery, then off to school, and eventually; we are on our own. Wild oats are sown, we find the love of our lives and get married. Then we have children. It all seems so different; no longer the child but the parent, fully responsible with your mate for their precious lives. Each day we work, worry, play, guide, teach and protect. We cheer for them in their triumphs, comfort them in their pains and defeats. They fill our world with challenges and joy. Then, one day, they are gone.
Peace, quiet, solitude. Emptiness; that nagging pit in the stomach on those first days and weeks; remembering that our youngest has left home. I think I’ll pop in to his room and… he’s not there, no one home but mom and dad. It feels strange; the lack of busyness, chaos and activity. The two of us adjust slowly, the stilted awkward phone calls become easy conversations, filled with laughter and questions, lots of questions. We still worry, and via phone, email and text we guide and teach as we had before. Then its time for a visit; whether here or there matters not, once together, it is as though we had never been apart. We talk and share our jokes and jibes; we are one, we are family.
Peace, quiet, solitude. Emptiness; that nagging pit in the stomach on those first days and weeks; remembering that our youngest has left home. I think I’ll pop in to his room and… he’s not there, no one home but mom and dad. It feels strange; the lack of busyness, chaos and activity. The two of us adjust slowly, the stilted awkward phone calls become easy conversations, filled with laughter and questions, lots of questions. We still worry, and via phone, email and text we guide and teach as we had before. Then its time for a visit; whether here or there matters not, once together, it is as though we had never been apart. We talk and share our jokes and jibes; we are one, we are family.