Moving Out
I was a mess. My husband probably wondered how big the therapy bill was going to be this time. I watched things get packed up into baskets, and beds stripped for moving.
This is how it must feel to be joining that group that I joked about – the group known as Empty Nesters. Yet, here I was–jokes aside–becoming a member and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
It’s not like they were moving too far away. After all, it was only to the backyard.
My two oldest boys were excited at the prospect of having their own little place. My youngest son, only 9, was quite jealous and commented on how his brothers now had “their own condiminium,” referring to the extra quarters we have just behind our house. After a very persuasive argument by my charming teenagers, and the realization that I might finally get organized with a true home office space, I finally relented and agreed to the move.
However, nothing prepared me for moving day. Despite all the years that my husband and I joked about the prospect of going to Disneyland alone and finally seeing all the “grownup” features of the amusement park – the packing activities of that day only made me want to turn back time, and plan to spend at least 72 hours in Toon Town with my boys – all of them.
But at the same time, this “mini move” will help prepare my heart for the real day – the day when the not-so-little birdies fly from our nest and start building their own, finding someone to love forever, and–someday–bringing me those little grandbirdies. I know it will be alright, but my heart twinges at the bittersweet realization that my boys are growing up.
And when that day comes, it will be helpful to have activities to keep me occupied. Oh yeah! I’ll probably still be busy organizing that fabulous home office that the spare room now offers.
