All points bulletin: Empty Nesters

Dear Mama’s Empty Nest Readers,

Today’s post is a special request and I’m hoping you can help me out with this one. It’s an APB!  Yep, that’s what I said!  An APB (all points bulletin) for empty nesters!

I’ve been contacted by a researcher from the Steve Harvey Show in Chicago.  The show is looking for families who are soon entering the empty nest stage of life for a segment on the show.

If your last child is graduating from high school and you are facing the empty nest or know friends or family members who are and would be willing to be contacted by the show, please contact Ryan Porter at this email address:  ryan.porter@steveharveytv.com

Oh, and did I say he needs help with this one immediately?!  He’s on a deadline and if you contact him, he will be one happy camper!

If you want more information on Steve Harvey’s talk show, click here for the official website.

Thank you!!

Sincerely,

Mama’s Empty Nest

©2013 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Preparing to fight the fog

I wonder.  I wonder what I’ll talk, think, and write about when it’s all said and done.

When all the planning is complete.  When all the vows have been said. 

When all the wedding décor disappears from its current abode in my dining room. 

When all the gifts have been re-boxed, packed up, and stacked into a moving truck headed for their new location.

When the basket of towels and sheets waiting to be laundered revert back to small loads.  When the table is set for dinner for two, not three. 

When three bedrooms are tidy and I can walk unhindered through my basement void of oldest daughter’s furniture and boxes.

When hubby and I drift into that steady routine consisting of work, cooking dinner together, and quiet evenings in our country home with the cat dozing on one of our laps.

When we passively shuffle along dulled by the monotony of everyday life like travelers seated on a passenger train, heads tilted back with eyes closed, just riding…gliding…lulled by the steady rhythm, jostled a little back and forth as the train clickety-clacks along the journey tracks and we endure the ride.

Will that be what it’s like?  When I wander through the house, empty-nested again.   And I wonder when the misty blanket of empty nest fog will try to envelop my thoughts and emotions once more.

Fall, my favorite season of all, will be ending and the dark night of winter will descend upon us.  Color will vanish for months and be replaced by hues of browns, blacks, and grays.

The trees will bare their limbs, the grass will fade to brown, and the flowers will all commence their winter night slumber.   The sky will grow dim and gloominess will usurp fall’s colorful power and reign while the sun plays hide and seek and the days grow shorter and darker.

And I will have to fight the dreariness, the lack of sunshine, and that empty nest feeling all over again. 

I usually enjoy winter with its lacy snowfall and its icy curtains.   I love the distinct changes of seasons, so I generally welcome winter’s arrival when Jack Frost nips at my nose and Suzy Snowflake dances through the air.

But I’m not sure this year about winter.  I’m not sure that the season’s artic air isn’t going to knock the wind right out of me and lay me flat.   

When ol’ man winter wraps his icy fingers around my home, I think I will struggle to shake his frosty grip from my state of mind.

As I grab wooly blankets and sweaters to keep me warm, I might also need to grasp spring-like reflections to break free from the chain of those empty nest moments of sadness, especially because none of our newlyweds will live in the same state as Mama and Papa.   Our times spent together as a family will be less often and holidays will be shared with their other families.

It’s a cycle that must be lived.  A reality of life that must be forged through as the parents of newly married young adults.  And for me, it will prove a triple whammy when all three of the weddings are completed next month.

Just as the bushy-tailed squirrel gathers sustenance with his acorn stash for winter survival, I will gather my to-do lists, make plans to keep busy, and remember to give thanks for the stockpile of golden happy memories we made this year – the year of the weddings.  

I will stack them in heaps of joy, hoarded in the hideaway of my heart to produce them when the empty nest sadness threatens to encase me. 

I will be grateful in the upcoming days of opportunity, even though they may be tinged with bitter-sweetness.  Because it is a choice to embrace joy amid the sorrow, to welcome the sun light through the clouds, to feel love’s warmth in the shroud of fogginess.  

In the face of winter’s gloom, I will choose joy.

And I will pray.  For blessings for my children – all six of them now.  For renewed vigor and purpose for hubby and me. 

And I believe I will pray for spring to come early.

 “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:  a time to be born and a time to die,  a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal,  a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh,  a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,  a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3: 1-9

©2012 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

We all shine on like the moon, and the stars, and the sun

Do you ever wonder where inspiration really comes from?

Sometimes our temporal lives seem so mundane.  We get up, we go to work, and we come home.  In between we eat, talk, complete the necessary aspects of life that need attended to, and sleep.

We find entertainment and escape from the drudgery of toil in different ways.  For some, it’s opening up a good book (or their Kindle).  For others, it’s mindlessly watching television or videos.  For yet others, it’s whiling away hours on the laptop playing games.

But that kind of life leaves us feeling empty, I think.  And I must confess I can easily fall into this same trap of dull, routine tedium.

Life has been busy and full in Mama’s Empty Nest as most of you regular readers know.  But even with all the activity, monotony occasionally sets in.  And when it does, it causes me to ponder what will happen when all the hustle and bustle dies down.  Because it most surely will.  Just as morning follows night.  As the sun rises, so does it set.

In between all the moments of joy the last few months, I’ve encountered sober moments as well.  Yesterday was one of those days.  I shed tears of sympathy and grief with a friend who recently and unexpectedly lost her husband.  I listened as she shared her struggles in dealing with his death, changes that are taking place in her life, and huge decisions she is facing.  And I cried with and for her.

Later in the day, my feelings got hurt by someone dear to me and that brought me close to tears. I realized I was being overly sensitive, no doubt due to the melancholy atmosphere of my day.  But then, as I examined my thought processes, another reality of life slammed into me producing tears yet again.

Our first child is getting married last in the queue of family weddings.  And while that brings me exquisite joy, it will be a bittersweet time for my husband and me.

Last year, she moved from the Deep South back to our home state with a new job in our nearest city.  What joy that brought to our hearts to have her near home once again!

She lived in an apartment in the city with her sister, our middle daughter, until that daughter got married and the lease was up for the place.  Since oldest daughter’s plans for life after marriage weren’t finalized yet, she moved back home with Mama and Papa temporarily about a month after her sister married and moved to the state just south of us.

But now, with her upcoming marriage, oldest daughter will once again move away.  She and her fiancé will commence their united life in his home state, about a seven hour drive away from our home nest.

With that reality, middle daughter and son-in-law living a couple hours from here,  and knowing son and his bride-to-be also will live several hours away in a different direction, it’s like going through those old empty nest feelings all over again.  The thought of all my children (all six of them!) scattered away from our home dampened this mama’s day and threatened to drown my joyful heart.

I retired for the night feeling tired, emotion-filled, and weary.   When I awoke this morning, crisp, cool fall-like air wafted through our open bedroom windows.  Bright sunshine flooded the room as I opened the blinds.  Birds sang their happy tunes and I heard the whoosh of school bus brakes as it stopped to pick up neighborhood children.

The promise of a beautiful day showed itself and I had the day off work.  Still a hint of gloominess grasped my thoughts.   I stumbled down the stairs with a basketful of towels to launder, threw them in the washer, and placed a full tea kettle on the stove for a steaming hot cup of tea.

While waiting for the familiar whistle of the kettle, I washed a few stray travel cups that were left in the kitchen sink from yesterday.  I glanced outside my kitchen window and that’s when I saw it.

I stared at it again, perplexed.  I tilted my head, changed my location and viewpoint,  and scrutinized the sight again.   And that’s when I grabbed my camera and inspiration washed over me.

Not just any inspiration,  God-inspired encouragement.  This scripture resonated in my mind:  “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”  ~ Psalm 8:2-4

 As I stepped into the cool, dewy wet grass of my back yard with the warmth of glorious sunshine radiating on my back, I snapped a picture of something that wasn’t there yesterday or I just had not noticed it in my gloomy frame of mind.

And I knew in my heart that this sign was God telling me He knows my heart, He knows my fears, He knows my mother’s heartache and joy, and He cares.  And He will fill my empty nest with His love, His goodness, His mercy.

Martin Luther wrote, “God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.”  

I found that statement to be most true today in yet another chapter of my life’s book of opportunity.  It was as if God displayed His Word written right in front of my eyes this morning.  So what did I see?

An inspiration star is born.

It might seem ordinary to some, but not to me.  For about a week, I’ve noticed tent worms had spun their cobweb-like wispy ‘tent’ on a tree bordering our property.

This tent spread out willy-nilly with no defining shape to it whatsoever….until this morning.

This morning that previously shapeless tent was formed into a star (click on my photo at left to enlarge).

A star with a message to me from my Father God.  “Shine on, my daughter, shine on.  I will always be with you even in your empty nest.”

“What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?” ~ E. M. Forster

Copyright ©2012 mamasemptynestwordpress.com

Here today, gone tomorrow

Just a few days ago, they dotted my green expanse of yard with cheery spots of bright yellow.  And now each and every one of them is gone.

They were the dandelions.  The sunny little bloom that most people think of as weeds.  When I see them though, they remind me of childhood.  Of warm, spring-like days when the sun shined brightly as I hopped off the school bus and walked through our yard to my home.

I would stop here and there and gather up a handful of blooming dandelions.  Their juicy stems left a sticky sap on my fingers, but I didn’t mind.  As I presented my little bouquet gift of dandelions to my mother, she never once said, “Why are you picking these weeds to bring to me?”  Instead she would ask, “Aren’t they pretty?” and put them in a jar of water on the kitchen table.

Today people use weed killer spread over the lawn in an attempt to eradicate these bursts of color in their yard.  But I don’t.  Because yellow, perky dandelions remind me of spring and sunshine and childhood memories and even my own children.  And they make me smile and fill my heart with happy thoughts.

But time marches on and so the dandelions come to the end of their blooming cycle.  Where once were lemony colored petals on the stem, only wisps of seeds remain.  When I was a child, I picked the stems after the blooms turned to white balls of fluff, closed my eyes, made a wish, inhaled a deep breath,  and blew with all my might to send the dandelion seeds and my wishes sailing into the air.

A spring gust of wind would lift the feathery seeds up and carry them along as they floated and sailed in the breeze.  Fluttering.  Gliding.  Drifting.

Today in my book called Opportunity, I’m reminded that life is much like the dandelion.  Here today, gone tomorrow.

Bursting forth with vim and vigor, and then fluttering along in the air of life. Floating.  Sometimes soaring, but eventually brought down to earth until we wither and are no more.

But the story doesn’t end there.  The dandelion seeds produce more happy yellow blooms next spring.  For us humans, our legacy lives on in our children and their children.  Just like dandelions.

In reflection of that, I’m savoring my thoughts and memories today, holding tight to these joyous moments of life as we prepare to marry off our three offspring.   Just yesterday it seems my home was noisy and full of rambunctious children.  Now it is quiet and tranquil.

Just yesterday it seems my middle child, the one full of spark and livelihood, was a youngster.  And now she is a grown up young lady who will be dressed in white lace and escorted down the church aisle by her father to be given in marriage in just one short month.

She’ll fly off with her husband …. her husband…my daughter is old enough to have a husband!   There will be new adventures for her, a new home, a different state in which to live, even a new job.   She looks forward to this exciting next chapter of her life with such joy.  I saw it glowing in her face at her bridal shower this past weekend as she opened her  gifts and talked about the wedding.

Just like the dandelions I once held in my hands, I also once held my precious children.  And now the day draws near when I must release them completely.  As the wind carries the wispy remains of dandelions to and fro in this spring season, my children also will soar into their futures, to their upcoming marriages, to their new lives in this current season of life.  I will watch and rejoice as they float and glide along and I will remember dandelions.

Copyright ©2012 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

The aftermath

‘Twas  two days after Christmas and all though the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.  (Callie’s a good deterrent.)

The stockings were empty, abandoned without care

Because Christmas was over and they were quite bare.

The presents that previously decorated the tree,

Were spread out over the living room for all to see.

Wrapping paper wrinkled and stuffed in the trash,

Proved evidence that there had been a big bash.

When what to Mama’s eyes did suddenly appear

But mountains of dirty towels and sheets she did fear.

So off to the washing machine she flew in a flash,

Stuffed it full of linens and tightened her robe sash.

And sitting in her kitchen with a hot cup of tea,

She surveyed her quiet nest where once was activity.

The goodies were eaten; there were only a few left,

But that certainly wouldn’t cause her to feel bereft.

The children were off to their work and their play,

But soon they’ll fly back home for yet another day.

Mama’s not sad as she straightens the nest,

But Callie’s looking lonely without all the rest.

This Christmas was different, yet joy reigned here,

And hopefully, that joy will last into the New Year.

 ©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Making a Withdrawal from the Snow Bank (again)

(Today in Chapter 12, Page 9, in my book entitled Opportunity, I’m visiting a post that I wrote last year in December when I was still suffering from those empty nest blues. )

Christmas memories float in and out of my mind like a delicate, intricate snowflake swirling and twirling through the air as it journeys downward.

One of two events must take place – either the bit of snow lands softly on the icy backs of all the other flakes that fell to earth or the tiny fleck alights on something of warmth, like my outstretched hand, where it melts away forever.

I make concerted efforts to make certain my cherished memories land on heaps of other memories, to deposit them like snow in a snow bank, where at any point in time, I can withdraw thoughts of a pleasant place, event or a meaningful conversation with a loved one and remember.

I’m not sure who Augusta E. Rundel was, but I found this quote she wrote tucked away in my quote notebook -  “Christmas — that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance.  It may weave a spell of nostalgia.  Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance — a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.”

The Christmas season always sends me to my memory bank.  I feel blessed and fortunate that it invokes delightful memories that I can wrap around myself like a magic blanket.  I can only hope my children will have pleasant recollections to also remember someday.

For the last two days, my co-workers/friends and I have been weaving spells of Christmas nostalgia at our office.  Well, if the truth must be told, we’ve been relating our fond Christmas memories in between gobbling down all the goodies that have been pouring into our office non-stop.

Just today -  and I am not exaggerating – we were treated to several plates of Christmas cookies, pizza, sweet snacks, salty snacks, homemade candy, chocolate and raspberry candy, nutty homemade caramel candy, (who makes homemade caramel these days – a lovely supporter of ours, that’s who!) and six different flavors of fudge!

Perhaps our sugar highs contributed to all the reminiscing, but I heard some great and heartwarming stories.  One of my dear friends has grown children like I do.  She was very near tears as she shared that this year, for the first time, neither of her children will be home for Christmas morning.  Her family will be together later in the day, but she felt blue about the changes in her Christmas tradition.

I tried to console her (although I don’t think I managed very well) and I thought about those changes that will someday affect me.  None of my children are married yet, so they have nowhere else they must be on Christmas morning.  But how will I cope with those changes when my children spend Christmas morning in their own homes with their spouses and families or with in-laws?   Hmm…considering that inevitability caused me to make a withdrawal at my memory bank.

Let me take you back about 18 years ago…..  My family, consisting of hubby, our three young children and myself, lived in the Pacific Northwest.  The day after Thanksgiving, as was our tradition, we had ventured out to chop down our fragrant Christmas tree, one with such a large trunk we had to purchase a sturdier tree stand.  They grow big trees out there!

Our three were beside themselves with excitement as we hauled out the ornaments, lights and the special angel who always sat on top of our tree.  That evening, we extinguished all the lights in our living room and gathered around as hubby plugged in the decorated tree.  Our children squealed with delight, and then fell into silence as we sat enthralled and basked in the shining beauty of it!

I have the most vivid memory of sitting on the living room floor with oldest daughter, who was probably 10, cuddled up on one side of me; middle daughter, at age seven, on the other side; and four-year-old son on my lap.  Our twinkling, sparkling Christmas tree glowed like something magical as we began the season in which we celebrated the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.  Emotion welled up inside of me and I started to weep.

“Mommy, Mommy, what’s wrong?” my children asked.  “Why are you crying?”

Hubby looked at me questioningly, probably thinking, “What did I do wrong now?”  But he bravely inquired, “What’s the matter?”

It was difficult to get the words out and make any sense of them.  But the joy and happiness I experienced sitting in front of our tree with my three little ones and my husband had suddenly turned to melancholy.   Even now, recalling that night and writing about it brings tears to my eyes once again.

I tried to explain my tears to my husband, knowing my little ones wouldn’t really understand.  I remember saying, “I just want to sit here and hold our children close, to remember this moment forever because some day, they will be all grown up and times like this will be just a memory.  They will grow up and leave our home and we will never get these moments back.  And I don’t want to lose that.”

That’s the truth.  I really did think that all those years ago.  This memory is stored in my bank.  I saw a glimpse of the unavoidable future that night and I knew that when that time came, it would make me sad.  And here I am, those years are upon me.

This year as our Christmas tree was lit for the first time, only hubby and I were here to experience it.   In the near future, we, no doubt, will encounter Christmases when our children aren’t home for the holiday.

That’s why this Christmas with all of my kids home, I will once again cherish the memories, guiding each whirling, twirling thought into my snow bank of reminiscences.

I hope you will do the same.  Hold tightly to those you love this season, take a moment to savor the sweetness of your time together, and then stow your lovely thoughts away in a spot for safe-keeping, whether it’s in your memory or written down – lest like the snowflake, they melt away.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Hauling out the holly

What a difference a year makes.  That statement may sound cliché, but it’s true.

Here’s how I know this.

Today is the first Friday in December, Page 2 in my 12^th Chapter of my book called Opportunity.  Last year around this time, my attitude was notably different than my attitude is today.  Don’t believe me? Read this.

Last year, I was:  (Pick one)

A.  Grumpy

B.  Grinch-like

C.  Melancholy

D.  Suffering from empty nest syndrome

E.  All of the above

If you chose “E,” you get the gold star!  Last year at this time, I struggled to drum up some Christmas spirit.  The crates full of holiday decorations lay idle strewn through the house, but I didn’t possess the motivation or desire to bedeck the surroundings.  My mind, kidnapped and trapped by melancholy, continually persuaded me to ignore the approaching season of joy just as surely as my heart, harbored in sadness, agreed.

Empty nest syndrome and grief over my father’s passing reigned.  My husband erected the artificial Christmas tree and strung it with twinkling lights, but it sat forlorn in the living room with no ornaments sprucing up its bare branches.   Garland did not festoon anything nor were candles blazing in the windows.   If it weren’t for hubby accomplishing the outside light decorating, our house would have sat as dark and dreary as I felt.

I was able-bodied, but always seemed tired, cold, sleepy or lethargic.  With no kids in the house anymore or elderly father to check up on, I sure had the time, but I just couldn’t muster up the inclination.  This lackadaisical attitude towards the Christmas season was as foreign to me as meeting up with an alien from outer space on my front lawn….it just doesn’t happen.

I’m one of those people who loves Christmas.  I usually have all of my greeting cards addressed, stamped and the annual missive to friends and family printed and tucked inside the envelopes ready to mail by December 1.  Shopping is accomplished early.  Tree and all of the other festive decorations  garnish and embellish our house the weekend after Thanksgiving.  But last year, I literally finally forced myself to do….something… and half-heartedly prepared for the most beloved time of the year.

Thankfully, this year is different.  I’m not so able-bodied (still suffering with some back and hip problems); I don’t have quite as much time; but I’m raring to go.   Our house is ablaze with Christmas lights and finery outside; hubby and I finished that Thanksgiving weekend.

The tree sparkles in the living room with all its treasured ornaments resting on its branches.  Christmas cards are addressed and will fill the mailbox soon (should be working on that Christmas letter instead of this blog post!).   With any luck, we should complete our shopping this weekend.

So what has changed from last year?  My attitude.

“If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.” ~ Maya Angelou

I can’t change the fact that my kids have grown up, moved out, and have their own lives.  I can’t change the fact that there are beloved faces missing from my family gathered around the Christmas tree.   But I can change one thing….me.   I can be a Scrooge, a Grinch, a Grumpy Gus, but I don’t have to be.

All it takes is a little Christmas and the knowledge that God loved us so much, He sent His only Son as the most perfect gift on that first Christmas so long ago.

Okay, I’m off to haul out some more holly and this year, the Christmas village will once again adorn the kitchen.  So in case you’re a little low on Christmas spirit, I’m sharing my all-time favorite Christmas decorating song with you because we need a little Christmas right this very minute.

 ©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Burning off the fog

The revolving door at Mama’s Empty Nest never stopped spinning over Thanksgiving.

A whirlwind of activity from last Wednesday until yesterday evening kind of left me in a fog this morning, much like this picture outside my kitchen window.

The door rotated open first when Oldest Daughter and Best Beau drove up from the city Wednesday evening.  BB made the trip up from one of those states down south to spend Thanksgiving with us…well, mostly to spend it with Oldest Daughter.  This one is definitely a keeper, and it has been a blessing to watch their relationship deepen from friendship to something more.

Again the door blew open later that night when Son arrived from his long trek from the state next door.  Mama put some finishing touches on Thanksgiving goodie preparations, and we basked in each other’s company until our eyelids started drooping.

Early Thanksgiving morning, Middle Daughter,  white scrubs clad and surprisingly talkative and chipper despite having just worked a 12-hour nursing shift at her hospital plus a drive home from the city, pushed open the revolving door.  Faithful Fiancé couldn’t join us as he didn’t have much time off from his graduate school studies in the state on the other side of us.

With all of the chicks back in the nest once again, I think Middle Daughter pined a bit for her true love and was too excited to be home with her siblings to want to nap.  But gradually she nodded off on the love seat while watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV (another family tradition).

We feasted on turkey and all the trimmings, including Mama’s kids’ favorite, frog eye salad, but not before we each took turns around the table to count and name our blessings, one by one.  As I surveyed the beloved faces gathered at the table and listened to each item for which they were thankful, a realization suddenly dawned on me.

Next year, when I carefully position my mother’s china on the Thanksgiving table, there will be more place settings, but more importantly, there will be more beloved faces.  Middle Daughter and Faithful Fiancé will be a married couple, so our family will increase by one for certain.

Mama’s also alerted to inklings about more exciting news in the empty nest, so I suspect our family will welcome two others, Oldest Daughter’s Best Beau and Son’s Gracious Girlfriend, sometime soon.   As I savored the opportunity to glimpse into the future, it filled me with joy and I silently uttered thanks to the One who ordains our days.

Whoosh!  That revolving door swept open again.  One of Son’s buddies from high school stopped by for a visit and we all commenced a lively game of Qwelf around the kitchen table.   Another spin of the door, and my sister and brother-in-law joined us from their celebration at their son’s in-laws.  The table expanded and Thanksgiving morsels spread out once again.

And just as the door brought them in one by one or two by two, the door opened again to allow their departure.  High school buddy left first, followed by my sister and her hubby.   Son departed to journey to his girlfriend’s family’s home for the remainder of the weekend.

Friday afternoon, more of Mama’s favorite people stepped through the revolving door on their way out.  Oldest Daughter and Best Beau exited to drive south for BB’s family Thanksgiving; Middle Daughter ventured westward to visit Faithful Fiancé.

And Mama and Papa were left with a closed revolving door.  And oodles of Thanksgiving leftovers.  And countless Thanksgiving blessings.

There was no cause for despair though, the door whirled open once more yesterday evening as Son and Gracious Girlfriend visited for a short while on their way back East.

So even though fog crept in this morning, in Chapter 11, Page 28 of my Opportunity book, the love and bonds of family light up my heart and the warmth left there burns off the fog, that misty wrapping of melancholy that once filled the empty nest.  The revolving door will once again burst open because this house, even though it’s the empty nest,  is home.

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”  ~ Alexander Graham Bell

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Kreativ blogging

One of the most difficult aspects about entering the Empty Nest stage of life is feeling left behind.

As my children somehow metamorphosed right in front of my eyes into adults and moved out of our home, I struggled with so many emotions.  Coming on the heels of losing my last living parent, the empty nest found me wallowing in a knee-high bog of grief.

The kids grew up and moved on to new lives of independence (read “Mom felt not needed anymore” here).   My Dad went on to his eternal reward in Heaven joining my Mom and my in-laws there (read “Those days of needing to check up on and take care of Dad were gone” here).   That’s why I felt like I was left behind holding a bagful of tears.

I turned to blogging as a way of working through my feelings and rediscovering my love of writing.  Blogging opened up a fresh, newfound world for me in ways I never dreamed would happen.

Somehow my words sent out into cyberspace found their way into other people’s worlds.  My quiet life with its lack of connections  suddenly came alive with lots of electronic firings.  It seemed as though an unused circuit board sparkled to life with all the lights, bells, and whistles.  I had imagined my life like a switchboard with no phone calls, but as my blogging world expanded, that switchboard was flooded with calls, totally transformed.

I found an entire new set of friends, something I never expected.   My belief is that God made the connections and brought some amazing people into my life through blogging.

“How rare and wonderful is that flash of a moment when we realize we have discovered a friend.” ~ William E. Rothschild.

Recently, I made a new friend, Dianna, in this world of connectivity.   She shares lovely photos and sweet narratives on her blog, These Days of Mine.   Visiting her blog is like welcoming a ray of sunshine into a dreary day.    She blessed me the other day with the Kreativ Blog Award and I thank her for thinking so highly of me and my words.

As with other blog awards, one of the rules in accepting it is to share snippets about yourself that you haven’t already blabbed about shared with readers.  I might have to dig deeply here, since I’m often like an open book.    Hmmm….thinking….thinking…??

Okay here goes:

1. I was born on a Wednesday, and as everyone knows from the old nursery rhyme – “Wednesday’s child is full of woe.”  Not true!!  I beg to differ.  I’m not full of woe, no matter what day I was born upon.  If I could have chosen,  I would have entered this world on Tuesday (full of grace) or Friday (loving and giving).
2. I have never owned a dog, and I really don’t ever want to own a dog. (Sorry, canine lovers, will you still be my friend?)
3. I’ve had a pen pal since I was in 4^th grade, but we’ve never met in person…yet.  We began our friendship writing letters to each other as children and continued through high school, college, marriage, and having children.  We still communicate with newsy letters at Christmas time after all those years. Someday, I hope we have an opportunity to meet face to face.
4. When I was a kid, I had a cat named Susie.  Once she brought a baby rabbit (still alive) into our house and laid it in a box with her newborn kittens and another time she brought a snake (also alive) in! I’m not sure why that tidbit of info just popped in my head; let me go check the cat and make sure she hasn’t brought any wildlife into the house!
5. I’d like to say I have visited all 50 states in the USA, but I’ve only been to 32. I need to do some traveling.

Now comes the fun part – passing the Kreativ Blog Award to someone else.  There are so many creative and fascinating blogs that I visit, it’s difficult to narrow down the field.

One blogger I’ve recently discovered truly is creative.  She’s a mom with young children and right there is a recipe for creativity.  Her blog is fun,  she’s always full of great ideas, and I think her kids must be very blessed to have such an awesome mom!  Check out her blog at Play 101.

I’m also passing this award on to Montana Outdoors .   If you want to see amazingly beautiful photographs of nature taken in Big Sky Country, this is one blog you shouldn’t miss.  I am continually awe-struck at the beauty Montucky captures with a camera.  I know it takes a creative eye to snap such stunning pictures.

During this month when our thoughts turn to thanksgiving, I find myself grateful on this 21^st page of Chapter 11 in my book called Opportunity.  I’m grateful for friends, old and new.  I’m thankful for a blogging community with such creative and encouraging writers.  And I’m thankful for you, my readers.  May you have a wonderfully blessed Thanksgiving Day.

 ©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

A Tale of Two Kitties

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”  So begins the tale of two kitties.

I just had to borrow that famous first line from Charles Dickens’ masterpiece, A Tale of Two Cities, for today’s post.   I humbly concede that I’m no great author.  I certainly haven’t written any classic works of literature.  I write a little bit on a personal blog and somehow manage to keep a few readers and subscribers entertained or interested enough to keep me on their cyber rotations.

But I digress from my tale.  Up until last weekend, there were two cats living at my house.  And I believed while it was the best of times, it was also going to become the worst.

To explain my rationale for it being the best of times, last month our oldest daughter moved back to our home state [yay!] after a few years living down South.   Her plan was to move in with our middle daughter and her roommate in their apartment in the city, but until oldest daughter could arrange to visit the property management company, complete her application, get her name on the lease, and pick up a key, she bunked here with Mom and Dad temporarily.

She literally started her new job the day after she moved here, so between getting acclimated at her place of employment, unpacking a few clothes and necessary items, and driving back and forth to the city, she was swamped.  But for Daddio and me, it was great having her here, so  that explains the best of times. 

When daughter moved in with us for those couple of weeks, her cat was a part of the package deal.  That’s where I feared the worst of times would kick in and the tale (or should it be tail?) of two kitties ensued.

Kitty #1 is the domestic dominator of our domain, her domicile.  She’s the queen bee, her royal highness.   Her name is Callie, the calico cat, and she belongs to hubby and me – or maybe it’s the other way around, we belong to her.

Anyway, I was certain she would view Kitty #2 as the unabashed usurper of her utopia.  Kitty #2 is oldest daughter’s huge black male cat who, as king of the hill, naturally ruled the roost at her apartment.

We expected this underling upstart named Jack would upset the reigning royalty, Queen Callie.   So we kept them apart to avoid a catty confrontation complete with claws.  See, Callie still possesses all of hers and Jack only has back claws.  But he is male and huge and quite strong.  And I convinced myself and everyone else that the two kitties probably should not meet.

Jack took up residence in our basement and was only allowed upstairs when Callie was outside or in the garage.  Every time we let Callie in, we had to make sure Jack wasn’t around.   It wasn’t too much of a problem at first, because Jack was skittish being in a new place, so he seemed happy to stay downstairs.

But as he adjusted to us and his temporary home, he wanted to come upstairs more often and was quite verbal about that. 

The problem was that three adult people couldn’t seem to keep track of where Callie was at any given moment.  Suffice it to say there was a lot of time wasted tracking down cats.

One night, Callie lounged on the kitchen floor.  Oldest daughter had been checking on Jack’s food and water downstairs, playing with him a bit,  and decided to bring him upstairs. 

Uh-oh….prepare for the worst of times.  At least that’s what I thought.

Callie looked at Jack as if to say nonchalantly, “Huh.  Who are you?”  She seemed totally unconcerned that this foreigner was in her territory.  And she promptly continued lounging on the kitchen floor totally non-flustered by this new visitor.

Jack, however, was another story.   Big, brawny  Jack took one look at Callie, hissed, scrambled out of daughter’s arms,  and turned into the epitome of a scaredy cat.  He hightailed it down the basement stairs.  Yep, he ran away.  While Callie yawned and went back to sleep.

All my fears about having a cat fight in the middle of my house were unfounded.  So all my worries about the tale of two kitties was just much ado about nothing.   Jack is king of his own hill again exploring his new abode at that city apartment.  And as I write about this in Page 6, in Chapter 10 of my Opportunity book, Callie is curled up at my feet sound asleep on a fleecy Steelers blanket.

Seems like it was just the best of times after all for us here at the empty nest, for Callie and even for Jack, for everyone… except for those Steelers.  But that is another story.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com