So my baby girl officially moved into her new apartment today. I am a complete wreck. I knew this was coming, and I manifested this. For years, I ranted: “I hope Mel leaves and doesn’t get stuck like me.”
Welp. The Universe answered that call.
And now I’m here, watching her post photos of the mover hauling the last of her things to her fabulous new digs to the family group chat.
I am proud. I am happy that I reared an independent, beautiful, highly gifted, intelligent, smart, ambitious, brilliant and resourceful young woman. I am excited for her new adventure in adulting. I am excited about going over to her home and sharing a bottle of wine, gossiping, and bingeing on Real Housewives on her new 65” big screen TV. I can’t wait to spoil her with gifts for her home. All we parents want our children to have their own, be able to take care of themselves, and be safe, happy, and whole. And my baby is all of that, doing all of that, and I am so inspired by her to do the same.
My daughter is my light and my joy. She brightens every day – even when we’re getting on each other’s nerves. I just love talking with her and hanging with her. I love our relationship. I love how she makes me laugh. I love how she thinks, and I love how close we are. I won’t have direct access to that anymore. It was time for her to go out on her own. I understand it, and I accept it.
I’m just in my feelings, feeling all that a single mother is supposed to feel when her only child moves away from her. She has been with me her entire life – 32 years and four months. That’s a long time to not have any grief behind it. So I’m doing my best to process this….
The compounding part of this grief is I am still in my mother’s nest. I moved back home in 2005 and never left. That wasn’t the plan, but unlike my daughter, I got too comfortable, did not save my money, and struggled through depressive episode after another. During that time, I lost jobs, went to school in between, inherited a stray dog, my father died, my dog was put asleep, my daughter’s cat was put to sleep, and all the while, my baby girl was growing up and planning for this day.
And I’m still here….
It hit me this morning. All I could think of doing was to write about and share about it. Hopefully, someone will identify with this. How do you cope when you’re and empty nester who never left her mother’s nest?