(Public domain)
The English journalist and writer Graham Greene once stated, “There is one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.” Nothing speaks truer to a parent of an adult child than a profound statement such as this one.
We all glimpse a bit of the future when our children experience milestone achievements. Graduation from kindergarten, middle school and high school allows us to see the potential for greatness in the eyes of our child. It is then that we realize that their years with us are dwindling, that they are primed to set off on new adventures without us. We have given them wings to fly, if we have done our job well, and it is our job to watch them take off, blazing bright and brilliant as a newly discovered star.
Once gone, parents experience something called empty nest syndrome. When our girl left home last May to strike out on her own, my husband and I were hit hard with all the feelings that accompanied the condition. Oftentimes, we found ourselves chuckling at memories of our girl’s childhood, while other times, we hid our tears when something on TV struck a chord in our hearts. It was a long process, but we are finally learning the value of letting go. It is not easy, but the payoff is golden.
One aspect of having an adult child who no longer lives with you is the feeling inside when they leave after a visit. Regardless of how long or short the visit may be, it always feels like someone stuck a rusty knife into your heart and turned it a few times. I am not alone in feeling this, as several Facebook page parents have verbalized this very feeling. To be honest, I never really understood what I was feeling until someone used similar wordage to express the depth of emotion that one feels when a child leaves to go to their own home. I guess I never really understood what my own mom felt until I experienced it myself. Life is often our greatest teacher.
I remember the first time that our daughter visited after officially moving out. I stood on the front lawn and watched her until her car turned the corner and my heart crumbled. I bit my inner cheek to prevent the tears and longed for the old days when she was “just going out for the day.” For the rest of the afternoon, I kept myself busy in the garden but had difficulty keeping memories at bay. As I pinched the tiny white flowers off the top of my arugula plants, I sighed. Arugula had been a staple in our summer garden since our daughter was a young child who loved the “peppery” flavor of the plant. We had planted it every year thereafter for her to enjoy.
After each subsequent visit, including the ones with her suitor, it got a little easier to watch her leave. I continued to watch her until her car turned the corner, but the sting had lessened considerably. Well, until yesterday, when an impromptu visit turned into a dinner date in the yard and I felt the impact of her leaving for good. She was standing in her old bedroom, clothes strewn all over the floor like the old days, but this time, a pile of clothing had formed on one of her dressers of clothing that she was taking to her new place. She had also taken a phone call from work and the memories of her speaking on her phone for hours in her room came flooding back. It was all a little too much at once and I walked out of the house to take a deep breath. Just when I thought I had it under control, the feelings came back as strong as ever. Sometimes it is hard to accept that our children are adults and in control of their own lives. Sometimes we have to overcome our own feelings in order to get something better in return, in this case, a wonderfully new adult relationship.
When she drove away last night, I stood and watched her drive off. Hubby came to the gate and called softly, “Ready, Chief?” I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and turned from my watch. As we headed into the backyard for the cleanup left behind by her boyfriend’s dog, I smiled. While it was tough to watch her leave this time, our new normal of becoming partners again is something that we sorely missed. The door has opened and the future is here. I look forward to impromptu visits and this strange, new feeling. While memories continue to surface unbidden, beautiful new ones are blossoming that breathe fresh life into the garden of our lives.
Patty Servidio is an Anton Media Group columnist.
