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June 4, 2004/Sivan 15 5764, Vol. 56, No. 37
Graduation prompts reflection on mom's role
BETH OLSON
Staff Writer
I fear being an empty-nester.
I know that I have quite some time before I'm there (since my youngest just finished kindergarten) but it seems with each passing school year that the days fly by faster and faster.
I recently attended the Jess Schwartz Jewish Community High School graduation. As the graduates stood to speak, each glowed with confidence, grace, integrity and anticipation for the next stage in their lives.
But while their parents are certainly proud and excited, I couldn't help but think that the occasion was bittersweet. After 18 or more years of seeing their children every day, how will they adjust to the emptiness left by a child who has gone off to pursue their own dreams?
My oldest daughter wants to go to college in another state. She's only entering eighth grade, so it's not unlikely she'll change her mind, but she's been pretty set on going to the University of Montana for the past couple of years. Of course we'll ultimately leave the decision up to her, but I've already let her know that I'd rather she not go so far away. I think Flagstaff and Tucson are plenty distant that she can have freedom and independence, yet close enough that she can still come home to visit and we can go see her on occasion.
Amongst my friends we spend a lot of time complaining about how busy we are - driving the kids to school, extracurricular activities, religious school and social events, not to mention housework, laundry and errands. Oh yeah, and work. Sometimes I'm in the car late in the evening and I realize I've been running for the past 12 hours and there's almost an unbearable weight upon me, knowing that tomorrow will be more of the same.
As a result, my fantasies are no longer about an exciting career or exotic travels or romantic dates with my husband, but rather about relaxing for an entire day - reading a book from start to finish, watching an old movie while giving myself a manicure and pedicure in the middle of the afternoon, or even sitting in the backyard, reading the paper with a cup of coffee in hand, without being interrupted.
And while I look forward to the day when my time once again becomes my own, I can't help but feel a sense of dread. As parents, our lives are so wrapped up in our children. And while it's not easy, our children are also our greatest source of pleasure.
Since I had my first child at 22, I've never really had an adult life without kids, and I wonder what will happen when they go out on their own. What will I do with my calendars instructing who to go where? What about those spreadsheets with our chores and responsibilities? The cubbies and mailboxes with everyone's name on them? And what about dinner? I did cook for myself and my husband before we had kids (although I must admit I had a limited repertoire of chicken, pasta and ground beef dishes at that time). Now I don't even think I'd remember how to cook for two people.
For now, I will try to take a deep breath each day and watch my girls at a time when they don't know I'm looking, and just spend a few moments putting the carpools, the laundry, the errands and the responsibilities out of my mind and be thankful for the wonderful time I've been blessed with.
Contact the writer at beth_olson@jewishaz.com.
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