Empty Nesting Sucks, But the Pain is a Blessing.

Megan's graduation, June 2013

I have now had a full week with my daughter being gone. The ache I have been feeling hasn’t seemed to ease up at all. I know that it takes time, and I know I will get through. But, it truly does suck.

I remember reading this quote years ago from Erich Fromm, and it put such a perspective on motherhood:

“The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic.  It requires the most intense love on the mother’s side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent.”

Erma Bombeck talks about “the depression of empty nest” that the “mourning” is not the “wet towels on the floor” that “they’re upset because they’ve gone from supervisor of a child’s life to a spectator.” That is so very true. I already see this happening. It is a true transition.

As a mother I am learning where my path goes. I told my mom last week that I just have to live through it because I know it is a transition. I listen to music, some songs over and over. Songs that remind me of when my Megan was a young, songs that remind me of her now, songs that remind me of her future, songs that remind me of the future Jon and I have in front of us.

Today it has been my Patty Griffin playlist, “Burgundy Shoes” “Crying Over” “Rain” and “When It Don’t Come Easy” I have played repeatedly.  But, I play “Heavenly Day” repeatedly too, because there are so many blessings.
   
A quote I read today by Denis Waitly says, "The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence."  I couldn’t agree more.

That specific quote leads to me to my point: Pain can be a blessing.
 
Nobody likes pain, I am also speaking of this very specific kind of pain I am feeling right now.  I am so blessed to have that love with my daughter that I miss her being gone.  I don’t have any sense of release. I don’t feel like it is now time to exhale or that I have earned some well-deserved time to focus on me.

Megan and me, 1995

Every day I have spent with her has been a day of joy and a day I thank God for giving me such a huge blessing. I miss her like crazy. I have her, she is my one and only.

Jon and I keep her bedroom door closed right now because it is hard to look in there without her being there. Our dog Tink still wakes up and goes straight down to her door to greet her in the morning.

Jon leaves for work on Tuesday morning and comes home Thursday night, so I have a few days I have to be alone.  But, still I know this is all a blessing. 

I have a husband that is living through this pain with me, that is a blessing.  I know how much he loves her, and that I choose a great man to be her step-father. Our dog even knows the joy she has brought us.

My time alone is a time for me to contemplate and figure out things.  Some of it is spent being really quite, and some of it is spent doing nothing but grieving.  But, again, this really is a blessing.  Our lives have been enriched.  We get to see her grow.  She is eager to see us when we see each other.  She looks to us for guidance and enjoys sharing her accomplishments with us.  We see her pride when she figures out something on her own.

She is becoming quite the woman, and we could not ask for more.  That is what a parent lives for.  We are truly blessed through this pain.