Musings of a Mother With an Empty Nest

I am sad and I don't feel like writing. My last child moved out last night. I knew this day would come, and I am happy for him. I am sad for me. 

I will eventually see the bright side, but not right now. This event marks a milestone and milestones say things about your life even if you're not ready to hear them. This one is saying, "You are getting older."

 I answer back, "Shut up!"

Milestone keeps on talking, "Your kids are all grown up, and they don't need you like they did when they were little." I raise my hand to slap Milestone, but he says, " How will you ever have grandchildren if your children never grow up?" I smile a little.  Milestone keeps talking because my hand has lowered but is still high enough to hit him in the mouth. "Your life is not over, it's just transitioning. You are still needed in other ways, and God has plans for you that you don't even know about yet." My hands meet at my chest in silent hope and delight. 

I sigh. 

This is good news.

My heart still pinches a little as I watch my 6'2" baby walk out the door. I remember bringing him home from the hospital. Scenes flash through my mind: him sitting on my lap as I taught him to read, him sitting on the bench in his adorable Little League outfit, and before I knew it, he was lanking across the stage in a cap and gown. Now he works a real job and has an outlook on life that makes me proud. 

Sigh. Smile. 

  "It's gonna be alright," Milestone and I say in unison. 

Then I go to sleep so I can stop thinking about it all, thankful that the sun will come up tomorrow and remind me to keep rolling and living and transitioning. It's the way of every mother.