Bye Bye Birdie

Another time in my life when I wished so very badly you were here to talk.  As you have probably seen and felt, my baby went away to college almost 4 weeks ago.  I haven’t seen him.  He went early for football and quickly adapted and is loving his new chapter of life.  My chapter, seems to be stuck with a major writer’s block. I know I was child #4 for you, and the last to leave the house, so maybe it wasn’t different for you when I left. Since you aren’t here, I rely on my second mom, Wendy, to give me tid bits of historical data.  She said you cried when I went to college.  Why don’t I remember that?  I am guessing because you waited for me to be gone.  Was it really that much of a different time in life, that moms didn’t project the way we do today?  Your era truly was so much stronger than the one I live in today.  I find myself sulking and telling others how much I am missing him.  Seriously, my son is alive and well, I am not trying to act like he is dead. Did you have these conversations with your sisters and friends?  Did you sleep in my bed like I sneak into his room and do?

After years of being so involved with his school, sports and social life my next chapter is waiting for me to turn the page.  I am reluctant.  But why?  Putting my son before myself was easy and natural. Putting me first feels like I am walking naked in public.  I feel exposed.  It was much easier to hide behind my son.  It has been coming for a while, this independent son chapter.  It must be why I have migrated towards pets and offer them my unconditional love.  I have even started to dog walk/sit for a service and get paid to do it.  Mom, I created an Instagram account for Rex (@rexguerin), I am not even kidding.  Again, it is easier to hide behind someone else. 

I will explore the new time on my hands with open arms.  I will try to stay away from HGTV, or I may find myself in a financial situation (HA). I can’t just turn on a light switch and start focusing on me, but I will try.  I will start with Health; physical, mental and spiritually.  I swear mom, I will. 

What would you say, if you were here?  I can envision you sitting in your crazy (excuse the non-PC term) indian style and pulling me next to you.  I would then lay my head in your lap and you would brush my hair away from my face.  You would comb through my hair with your fingers and get rid of any tangles that exist.  Your finger tip would trace my nose, lips and chin.  My eyes would be closed, but I would still feel your gaze as if you were refueling my body with energy.  You would tell me that letting go never gets easy, but if done, I would be able to SEE and enjoy the moment.  Thanks, mom, for being here, even if it wasn’t physically.