New Beginnings

My son left for university earlier this month. This was his dream college, his heart was set on it, and when he got accepted, it was a no brainer! As a family, we knew it was the right choice and we were excited for him to turn the page to this next chapter.

The summer passed in a blur with travel, meeting friends and family before A left for college, getting things organized for his dorm, and a million other tasks in my ever-expanding to-dos list. The time came for us to leave for the airport and A was so sad to say goodbye to our sweet boy, Copper! Though I don’t want to admit it, I know in my heart that he will miss Copper the most!

The week whizzed by, and before we knew it, we were on a flight back home. It was a strange feeling entering home and knowing for certain that A was not at a friend’s place for a sleepover; he was hundreds of miles away from us.

I miss so many things about not having him under the same roof he has been for the past 18 years - the back door opening and the flinging of his shoes in the mud room. I could always tell by the sound when they hit the floor if they were the regular Nikes he wore to school, his soccer/ frisbee cleats, or the slides he sometimes wore when it was too hot. I miss his presence in the kitchen, making an elaborate dessert or a quick ramen to satisfy those midnight cravings. I miss driving him to sports practice, piano lessons, play dates, and especially our conversations in the car. Of course, all this stopped a few years back when he got his license and started driving. However, the sound and imagery that I miss the most is of him sitting at his beloved piano which now waits patiently, its mahogany veneer gleaming in the soft autumn light filtering unobtrusively through the large windows in a delicate, golden diagonal.

His room is tidier than I can ever remember! I lie down on the bed, inhaling deeply to hold on to the faint scent of his deodorant, the ephemeral lingering trace of his shampoo on the pillow. I cannot bring myself to wash his sheets, though I know I must do so soon. It has been a month!

Friends, family, and colleagues have all told me that the transition of being an empty nester will be difficult but it is a rite of passage that most parents will inevitably go through at a certain point in their lives. Intellectually, I know this, that as hard as it is to let them go, fly they must. But my heart feels like an eggshell. Is this sadness that I am feeling? Is it grief that I am trying to process because I should be happy, right? He loves it there, has made many friends, and is finding his place in a truly welcoming community.

I am at my desk and gaze out the window; I observe the maple tree beginning to turn a fiery orange, though it is still a few weeks away from preening in all its blazing Fall glory. In this moment of quiet contemplation, I wonder if perhaps the grief is not so much about my boy’s physical distance; maybe it is the heartache for the passing of a time in our lives that will never come back. For the past 18 years, we've been following a familiar cadence, but now everything is changing, and a new rhythm of life is taking shape. Maybe this shape of shifting life patterns is what makes my heart fragile.