Empty Nest Revisited - Part II

Part II - The Big Wave Should Come With A Hanky

The phone rang. My son was on the other end. His calling me was no surprise as we had been speaking to each other 2-3 times each day for the past several days working out all the details of having him return home.

"Hey Mom" he says to me excitedly. "Good news, I have an opportunity to move to Montana." He had been in contact that afternoon with friends of his asking them what the job opportunities were in their area. He had explained that he would be looking for a place to relocate in a few months and was considering Montana. Well, that was when he blew me away, they had invited him to come live with them until he got established with a job and enough cash to find a place of his own. Totally unassured that this was good news I responded cautiously with numerous mom questions. I was emotionally torn, a part of me was very happy that he was being given this opportunity to explore, but another part of me was upset that I had likely lost what grasp-hold chance I thought I had with him returning home.

After a few days I thought I had come to terms with his moving so far away. In fact, I even told him I would drive him to his destination. He had sold his car as it was just a runabout town vehicle and was not likely to be dependable for such a long drive (over 1400 miles). I figured a road trip with my son would be fun. Besides, this way he could take more of his belongings with him by loading them up in my Jimmy than he could have by taking the bus or hitching a ride.

Our journey to Montana was very much a spiritual journey for me. It was an opportunity to explore the emotional attachment I was holding onto in my role as a mother. As the three of us (me, my son, and his cat, Patch) journeyed further along our route I could sense an increasing flow of anticipation and excitement in my son's energy. At the same time I was experiencing a buildup of dread and sadness within my being. I fought back tears with rapid blinks of my eye lids but lost the battle. Gentle tears began streaming down my cheeks as I drove along the Interstate. The full floodgates didn't open up until later on during our final good-byes.

As I drove homeward bound in an empty vehicle with no conversation and no cat meowing in the back seat I felt very isolated and alone. I was anxious to return home swiftly to the comfort of my home and be held in my husband's arms. Instead I found myself in the midst of an impending snow storm and soon came upon a closed Interstate section. I wandered about a Conoco gas station in Wyoming with other stalled travelers for two hours waiting for the road crew to clear the roadway before deciding since it was turning dark it may be best to secure lodging somewhere. The only vacancies available were at a motel on the edge of town named Cozy Motel.

That evening I did my best to sink back into my skin to soothe my sad feelings by celebrating the coziness of being alone. I took a hot shower and dressed myself in a pair of baggy sweatpants and an old tattered sweatshirt. I cuddled into bed and ate favorite orange food which consisted of Cheetos, raw baby carrot sticks, and an orange. All these snacks I had tucked away in my SUV for the trip. The next morning the Interstate was still closed so I lingered in the motel room until check-out time reading a book. I finally ventured out to the motel office and mapped out an alternate route circling through the Black Hill Forest Park, the whole time experiencing weakening waves of empty nest pangs. I had survived the Big Wave and realize now that I will likely experience more empty nest pangs in the months and years to come. Empty nest is a stage of motherhood that doesn't necessarily feel good, but I will embrace it because being a mother has been one of life's greatest adventures and I will never regret choosing this role in my life.