Is it strange how happy it made me to hear Will say he was having some of the guys over for the Superbowl? That it warmed the cockles of my heart to know that I would have a house full of large and rowdy teenage boys cleaning out my refrigerator and pantry? And not only was that okay, I would run out to pick up wings and nachos and make-your-own pizza and anything else their little hearts and big stomachs desired?
I have to confess I’m feeling wistful these days, especially after yet another Friday night with Will out with his friends, and the whole evening stretching out in front of me and Bill. There’s so much we could and should do. And yet I long for the days when the house was full of our children and their friends. The chaos from which we once wished to be free is gone, and in its place, a vacuum that needs to be filled with a new kind of noise.
Isn’t it ironic how we go from the heavy lifting of the child-raising years seemingly overnight to impending empty nesthood? Katie is now firmly ensconced in a career in the San Francisco area. Molly is in Paris for an internship and planning to be back in school in September in London. Will is in the throes of junior year — probably high school’s most stressful — given the push for good grades and high test scores so he can play college lacrosse. Of all the kids, he’s the most independent at this period of life and ever since he’s gotten his license, we’ve seen less of him than I would want and I miss him already.
Instead of feeling vaguely lonely, I tell myself this is when I should finally pursue the dreams I put on hold way back when. I could go back to school. One of my life’s biggest regrets is turning down my offer to be in the Columbia School of Journalism’s class of 1987. My kids tell me it’s not too late — I should apply right now and I’d be a shoo-in. Ha! Even if that were the case, something tells me that ship has sailed.
In my youth I thought I wanted to be a Broadway dancer. I have a pair of tap shoes, brand new, in the box, ready to go, so I should finally sign up to take lessons. On a different dancing note, Bill bought us some sessions at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio at Quakerbridge Mall. We could aspire to take first place on one of those television dance shows. Dancing with the Stars, here we come!
I could organize our photo albums — a much easier prospect these days since we haven’t printed photos for years. I could clean out my closet and dump the “memory” clothes I’ve held onto for years, though I’m still not sure I could let go of Will’s first snow booties, Molly’s princess dresses, or Katie’s Pocahontas costume.
I’m too old to be having a mid-life crisis, but I definitely am looking out to the next chapter of my life, one that still very much has our kids present, but not in the day-to-day way it has been for the last 25 years. We’re even talking about putting the house back on the market — though realistically not until Will graduates next year — because we surely don’t need all this space and certainly don’t need to pay all these taxes.
But where would we go? Close enough to the kids so they can visit easily, but even that doesn’t pose an easy answer because they’re going to be scattered — San Francisco, London, and somewhere in between. We’re tied to the east coast because of Bill’s mom and my parents, but are we tied to New Jersey? Are we tied to suburbia? Will I still be able to call myself the Suburban Mom? Can you see there is plenty of grist for the mill here for an identity crisis of sorts?
Here’s another barometer marking my changed outlook on life. Not so long ago, I was in an acquisitive phase. Longaberger baskets, Tupperware, Partylite Candles, you name it, I went to the party and I bought it. Feathered the nest for years. I’ve enjoyed hunting for treasures at the high school flea markets and even written a column or two here about the thrill of the hunt and my finds.
“Less is more” and “you can’t take it with you” have now become my favorite phrases. I want to zero balance my credit cards and clear out my clutter. It’s time for a major garage sale, in my garage this time. Now that my life has more room to accommodate “want-to-do” than “have-to-do,” I want to learn new things I’ve never had time to indulge. Once I’ve finished with my mental adjustment, I should be ready to embrace this impending new life phase with all the love and enthusiasm with which I’ve embraced the last.
