My Biggest Problem with the Empty Nest

My biggest problem with the empty nest is that I got too used to it.
We moved Lizzy into her new dorm on Saturday and the house is now empty of children - again. It's been about a month since Christmas break started and all the festivities of the season and Robert's wedding commenced. I think our first semester of the empty nest wiped out my memory banks of having a houseful of people, coming and going and eating and sleeping at all different hours. I used to be able to function with the different schedules and agendas and needs, while still maintaining what I needed to do. Carving out time for myself in the midst of chaos was a skill I pretty much perfected. Going with the flow and adapting to those around me was really part of my make-up.
But this past month, it all got to me. The mess of lots of people and lots of activities weighed on me. The calendar lunged from one event to the next and the days, or hours, in between were lost in the process. And, yes, it was a busy time - but I think there's more to it.
The seasons have changed. I've always known I'm a very seasonal person and if you've read this blog for long, you know that. Certain smells, colors and music designate the natural seasons for me. Now I'm thinking my internal passage of time goes even further than that.
It's a new season of just me and Mike, of my writing having a future, of doing things I like (i.e. my book clubs) and basically narrowing my focus. Multi-tasking seems to have belonged to a different season.
I feel a deep gratitude for this new season and for the acknowledgment of it. However, there is also a sadness at the passing of that season of full home, full calendar, and broad, scattered focus. But having a beginning and an end IS what makes something a season.
Could that be what leads to so much sadness in our lives - holding on to seasons which have passed?

Over, I Guess.

I’m ready. Ready for the last day of vacation. It’s funny to me that on the first day of vacation I think I could stay forever. This is SO much better than home. But then this morning the humid smell of salt water and wet sand when I opened the balcony door, wasn’t refreshing. Having to walk over to the club house to check email and facebook is tiresome. Nothing on the schedule means making a schedule for each day. That was freeing at first, now it feels kinda loosey goosey. Like the vultures in Jungle Book. “Whadda you wanna do?” “I don’t know. Whadda you wanna do?”
However, something about knowing there is an end to this holiday makes it more special, more precious. Like a special thing sat up out of the reach of children’s hands, maybe even behind glass or in a protective frame. I’ve often been sorry when something beautiful got soiled or broken because I failed to take care of it. With age, I’ve learned to try and value special things before they are gone.
And this first empty-nest vacation, has been special and beautiful. I want to take time today to frame it, protect its memory, and value this week in such a way that it serves its purpose long after it’s gone. This week marks an ending and a beginning. Memories have flooded us when we’ve seen kids in the surf and hope surged as we watched couples a few years ahead of us, walking on the beach holding hands. There has been joy and even champagne toasts at our freedom and then tears when Jimmy Buffet starts singing “Little Miss Magic”.
I’ll never forget this week and, I guess that’s the point.