The Ones Who Know

I have kids that come and go. They are 23 and 27. They don’t live here, but they come more often than when they were in college. It took me a while to get accustomed to the coming and goings. Each time, I was surprised when the tears welled up as the bags piled up by the front door. You know, that nagging ache that blankets your gut when your children take flight. Really, it’s no different than the first day of kindergarten, or the overnight middle school trip, or relinquishing the car keys, or walking up the steps of the freshman dorm and being greeted by the smell of pot wafting from the windows, or offering advice about bosses who are borderline abusive. Each time, that pit down deep tells you to grab them tight and not let go…

Don’t get onto that bus. Don’t get into the car. Don’t step foot in that office.

But you don’t. You love and respect them too much to do that. Really. But we’re the ones who know. We know what we’ve given them. We know where they’ve been. We know what they are capable of. But we don’t know where they’ll go. So we talk like we've been demoted, telling them to text us when they get there. But they know.

No Such Thing As An Empty Nest

I have changed my tune over the last few years about empty nests. The pain is unbearable at first. The empty place at the dinner table cannot possibly heal. Then it’s swell. Candlelight dinners at 9 and adult conversations. Could all this freedom be real? Now I’ve come to the conclusion that there really is no such thing as an empty nest. They come. They go.

My friend Carrie’s daughter has moved home. I can tell it’s not easy. But it’s necessary. She writes an eloquent account of the situation, asking herself whether or not she’s mom enough for this new phase of parenting.

The Ones Who Know

A few years ago, I interviewed singer, Dar Williams. The themes of her music speak to many issues that resonate with me…the environment, family. Dar has young children and wrote this song as they began their journey. She echoes the ones who really know.

The One Who Knows Dar Williams

Time it was I had a dream, and you're the dream come true. If I had the world to give, I'd give it all to you. I'll take you to the mountains; I will take you to the sea. I'll show you how this life became a miracle to me.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, When my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

All the things you treasure most will be the hardest won. I will watch you struggle long before the answers come. But I won't make it harder, I'll be there to cheer you on, I'll shine the light that guides you down the road you're walking on.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, When my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

Before the mountains call to you, before you leave this home, I want to teach your heart to trust, as I will teach my own, But sometimes I will ask the moon where it shined upon you last, And shake my head and laugh and say it all went by too fast.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, when my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

Discover Dar Williams’ music here.

Photo: Chris Scott Snyder

Random Halloween Sightings

Halloween comes and goes without much hoopla in an empty nest deep in the woods. Trick or Treaters that spook the living daylights out of my dogs haven't ventured up my driveway in years. My own little zombies (below) are all grown up and have flown the nest (as they should). There is a glimmer of regret about not being able to enjoy Halloween vicariously through my babes.

Do not shed a tear for me – Halloween may not be my holiday anymore, and the kids only mildly resemble grown-up versions of those little zombies, but I still enjoy the holiday. Even if you have given up participating in the kitchier side of Halloween (parents do the strangest things), one does not have to relinquish all the treats.

Here’s an adult-sized dose of Halloween eye-candy:

Pumpkin Pillow

Eerie White Pumpkins

Knitted Skull

Halloween Spoon Garden Markers

Don't forget a Black CFL.

Happy Halloween!

Main image: Devils Thorn via Garden Design

Rerooting

One thing I learned early in my writing career was to record my thoughts immediately after an event - anything that could be deemed post-worthy. This is especially true for emotional subjects. Once the moment is passed, it no longer tugs. So, last week I wrote this post after my friends, Brad and Cindy came to visit. Here's an excerpt:

"Here’s the scenario: As a young family you buy a home in a vibrant community, raise a few children and nurture enduring friendships. One by one, the children empty the nest. You find the once-perfect home and community no longer meets your needs. The empty rooms, the maintenance of keeping a large house and gardens, the increasingly far proximity to those fledglings that flew the nest, and a new sense of freedom that makes for a restlessness that builds until it gives way to a wanderlust that takes hold.

This happened to two of my favorite people. We raised our babies together, discussed our kid’s schooling, commiserated about teenage angst, had endless conversations about the interconnected lives of the members of our community, and then we watched our respective children (all five of them) fly away from the nest. Then...my friends flew the coop. They sold the family home, left their friends tearfully behind, and set off on a new adult-sized adventure. Eventually, they rerooted in a new community and a new home."

Have you or anyone in your life rerooted? CLICK HERE FOR MORE

Artwork: Bradley Clark