A Little of Everything

The past weekend was my idea of perfection. A little dash of this, that and everything created the exact combination of what I needed/wanted to accomplish, seasoned with a touch of family which was the finishing touch.

One-on-one visits with my adult children is one of my most favorite things. "This" is the reward of having parented one's children to independence. The enjoyment of their company on a new plateau.

I listen to those who dread the idea of becoming an empty nester. I worked hard to gain this title. I plan to savor the rewards of enjoying the company of my self-sufficient in-dependents.

One of the things I appreciated the most, is two out of three filed their own tax returns!! 

I must admit, if I hadn't helped my third file their taxes, I wouldn't have had the excuse to talk with them. We just need to enhance those visits by eliminating the tax-factor.

It isn't the way most families celebrate the Easter weekend, but I'll take it.

The Gift of Independence

Our independence is something we tend to take for granted while we have it.

When we wake up each morning and know we can make our way through the day ahead of us with a laundry list of mundane tasks we can do without thinking, we are fortunate.

When we have the ability to get out of bed with ease and our bodies do what we have come to expect them to do, we are blessed.

When we can remember what happened a few minutes or hours ago, we are rich beyond our wildest dreams.

When life unfolds in a relatively expected manner day after day, we are living the good life.

Mom's fierce determination to live an independent life was hard fought and she won the battle. Mom lived in her own home until her final days.

We were so fortunate Mom's determined self sufficiency worked out the way she hoped and persevered to make happen.

I hear Mom's words within my thoughts a lot these days. She knew. She knew ...

Mom? I hear you. I hope the next roads I follow within this little life of mine lead me to become as strong and determined as you always were.

Time Warps

I have been thinking of a conversation I had with my sisters when I had just found out I was expecting my youngest son.

I was 37 years old at the time. Ancient. Prior to this new found discovery, I thought I was in the middle stages of raising my (then) youngest son who was 10 years old. My sisters came to visit me without the entanglements of children or husbands. It was just us girls sitting together reflecting on the moment I was in.

I was somewhat envious of my sisters' ability to pick up and go without dependants in tow. Here I was, about to become a new parent at the ripe old age of 37. I remember saying (something to the effect of) "I will be 50 years old before I can go somewhere without kids ... [we laughed] ... you guys will be 59 and 61! [the tone of our laughter changed as we reflected upon this reality]"

Needless to say, those years have come and gone. I have happily packed my bags and gone to my sisters, gone with my sisters and have spent a lot of time enjoying the company of my sisters despite our advancing ages.

The year I turned 50, was the year my middle son moved back home to save up for his eventual move out to his farm. I had a reliable adult on standby and he encouraged me to go out and live my life ("So when you start repeating your stories when you are old, they would be interesting ones").

I went back to school. I went to a dance competition. I joined Zumba and Belly Fit classes. I started taking classes to become a group fitness instructor. I went on an Alaskan cruise. Those are the highlights that come to mind during those years of independence. I did this after I closed my daycare, so I could go back to school and changed my career path to one where I could actually book time off.

Then life took an unexpected turn. The career change was not ideal and I ended up reopening my daycare. With daycaring, came great responsibility. I was bookkeeping Saturdays. Spur of the moment was impossible. My life was not my own. Again. My wings were clipped and I was back to being a responsible stay-at-home adult. I finally completed Dad's families' book of memories during this time. But it all took a toll. I do not look back on those years with great fondness. I was exhausted. I endured.

Then I closed my daycare. Again. My wings regained their strength and I had room to be flexible, do and go places without dependants. But things were changing with Mom. This became the stage in my life I call: "So you THINK you can make plans, huh?!"

My second stint at being independent and carefree became a time I invested wisely. No regrets. I had employers who were incredibly supportive and gave me all the flexibility I needed to be where I wanted to be and go where I needed to go. It was a completely different version of the same phase of my life when I took my extravagant holidays.

Life has evolved once more. I am heavily invested in the work I do. Picking up and going places on the spur of the moment is not my reality. I recently took a broken up holiday to accommodate one of my jobs and upon my return, I felt like I never should have left. I have returned to the phase of life where I have great responsibilities. Not to my children but to my employers. My wings are sitting quietly at my side and I will endure.

Back to the beginning now ...

Twenty two years ago, I was looking at my life in fast forward mode. I was wishing my life and the life of my unborn child away so I could spread my wings and live an independent life. To wish for a life of independence at this stage of my life is to wish for the unthinkable. My ability to dream ... feels elusive to me.

It was only upon reflecting on this cyclical life I lead, I recognized the pattern, the yearning, the need for time to pass and the eventual reality that my independence will come. We don't know what price we must pay for our independence. There may be times we get what we wish for but long for the days we wished away.

I am trying to appreciate the moment I am in without wishing it away. I have one eye on an eventual, partial retirement while the other eye is firmly gripped in reality. Be careful what you wish for.

Sitting with all of my siblings a short while ago, we again had a moment of reflecting where we all would be twenty years from how. There was a thoughtful, reflective pause before I uttered to my oldest sister "You will be turning ninety!". We laughed. Heartily at first. Quietly in the afterglow.

My uncle just celebrated his 90th birthday. It was a time of gathering his siblings together to mark the occasion and breathe in the moments. The family had a few gatherings while he was visiting this summer and his friends and nearby family had a gathering on his actual birthday when he was settled back in at home. His brothers attended each and every one of these occasions.

As I look toward the future that is what I hope for as well. For us to gather and celebrate the moments when they are good and to walk along each other's side when the going gets tough. I don't want to wish this time away. I want to appreciate it ...

Twenty Years

It has been twenty years plus a day since my youngest son was born. As I think back on the time when I was the one who just turned twenty, I reflect on the differences between "turning twenty years old in 1980" verses "turning twenty in 2018".

By the time I was twenty, I had been married, had a child, divorced, started working at a restaurant which was quickly enhanced by a second job at the bank, I had bought a townhouse the month I turned nineteen, so by the time I was twenty years old I had established a nice little independent life of my own.

Contrast that with my son at age twenty. He is just getting nicely established in his classes at University, he has a part time job at a grocery store, has a group of friends he sees regularly and has established a nice little life of his own, here at home.

I was financially independent (with the safety net of knowing my parents would probably catch me if I started to free fall) and had struck out on my own.

Though my son supports all of his own spending and costs related to running his car, he is rather dependent on living at home and the creature comforts that provides.

While looking backwards, maybe I should have tried to seek out a University degree to better pay my own way going forward. I have recently learned that a degree makes a difference in the amount of your pay cheque (who knew??!). Even knowing that, I believe I would have chosen independence over furthering my education in my own personal circumstance.

When looking at "today", I feel my son has made a good choice by choosing education over independence. While living independently and forging your own way through life is the best way in the world to discover who you are, become accountable and find out what you are capable of, "life" is a very good teacher and will take care of that in due time.

I think of the comfortable life we lead here together under our shared roof. While I know I would and will fully support my son's decision to move out and into his own life when the time comes, I also know that our peaceful co-existence is beneficial to both of us.

As much as I do not enjoy leaving our home to go out and forge a life on my own, I have a feeling that I may not feel that way if there was not another human being sharing this roof with me. Not only do I have a man about the house who is willing to share some of the household responsibilities, I know that I am not alone. I am simply grateful that my son is not being held back due to him feeling like he HAS to stay home.

I think of Mom and my brother when he decided to move out on his own and prove to himself that he was capable of making his way on his own.

As much as Mom encouraged living away from home as the best thing that can happen as a child grows up, she must have missed his presence when he left home. She had various boarders who stayed with her which would have eased her through the transition, but it still marked the end of an era. An era she believed in completely and fully in all the years to follow.

Twenty years. It passes so quickly. It marks the time in different lives, different and unique ways.

It has been a good twenty years. I hope my son feels the same...