It’s the time of year when a lot of parents are taking their children off to college. I am reading on Twitter and Facebook, my friends' struggles with sadness watching their children finally grow up and “leave the nest.” As a grandmother, I have been through my own version of separation anxiety years ago when my two children left home for the first time. But today I get to revisit that painful experience in a new way.
My daughter and teenage granddaughter who have been living with me for quite a few years are moving to another state and starting a wonderful new life. It is a terrific thing for them. Positive, exciting, and happy. And so, while I rejoice in this great adventure they are starting, my heart is breaking. I always knew the day would come when this would happen. And now in a few days I will hug them and send them off. Only this time, they won’t be home for dinner. This is a little different from sending a kid to college who will be coming back during breaks. Oh, of course I will go visit and they will visit, but the relationship will be different. Thankfully we live in an age of Facetime and Zoom so I can see them whenever I want, but still, they won’t be here. With me.
Oh, the selfishness of wanting to keep them here with me just as they are forever. But the point of being a parent is to raise your children and then set them free to live their own lives. I have been trying to breathe through the pain and heaviness of watching this event hurtle toward me. Crying when no one is watching. A perpetual lump in my throat. Unable to sleep as I replay the greatest hits of our lives together. I am grieving and probably will be grieving for a while. And I HATE grief. I have had my share of it in the past with the deaths of my parents and oldest daughter. But somehow grieving a death seems more legitimate than grieving when something good happens.
But grief is about love. When you love something or someone, it is hard to let go. A few months back a feral cat we had been feeding disappeared for six weeks and I was devastated. I probably sound ridiculous and old. But the feral cat showed back up, and I know that in a few weeks (or months) my loved ones will be happy in their new home and texting me constantly. And the new normal will settle in. Still…change is hard. At least it is for me.
So, for all the parents and perhaps grandparents out there who are facing their own empty nests, I am right with you. And I want to tell you to allow yourself time to miss your kids and the way life used to be. Cry if you need to. Treat yourself gently. Letting go is hard. Lean on your faith. That is what I will be doing. I love the statement “Let go and let God.” Allow God into the equation. He loves your children even more than you do. He will guide their steps. And He loves us, the grieving ones, too. His shoulders are very big. And His love is even bigger.
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