So we all know I’ve got four years of sobriety under my belt. Four years ago my kids were 38, 27, 19, 16 and 14 (x’s 2). Essentially, I still had a full house. The first three were gone but I still had three, very needy and growing boys at home. They still needed me for a roof, sustanance, guidance, hugs, kisses, some entertainment and a good laugh from time to time.
But I knew…
I knew the day was coming when they’d be gone and I’d be left staring at their empty bedrooms wondering where the time went and drinking myself into a coma. I could see it!
I was right.
Thank GOD I listened to my gut (and my husband).
We took my youngest (by 21 minutes his brother will tell you proudly) to school this weekend. He’s living on campus. Now…it’s only 20 minutes up the road and I expect to see him frequently (at least to do his laundry) so it’s not like he’s 3000 miles away (how DO parents do that?) but this one is hard because I know he’s the one that will never really be “back”. He’ll come home over break and to get a hot meal, but he’s chomping at the bit to get on with his life. He wants to spread his wings.
His father and I were discussing this the other day on the way to work. He and I both were out of the house at his age. Married (not to each other – when the hubs was 18, I was in kindergarten…ewwwwww) and running our own lives. I left home and got married to get the hell away from the dysfunction that was my home. He left because that’s what you did in 1966. You got a job, got married and, for him, went to Vietnam. Regardless of why, we were ready.
When I compare how I felt then to my own kids and how they must be feeling, I shudder. Because time has taught me that I wasn’t ready, that the world was big and ugly and was going to hurt me. That actually, I didn’t know shit even though I thought I was the shit. But it was also exciting and new and…well…fun.
They’re leaving…and they are the last. But’s that is what they are supposed to do…right? I’ve always said that my job as their parent was not to be their friend but to raise good people who would be assets to the world. People of integrity with a loving heart who cultivate goodness and light.
I did my job. They are great humans. In fact, they’re awesome. For now. I don’t know what will happen out there and what’s more I CAN’T CONTROL IT. My job as I knew it is over. I have children with the addictive gene that I’m turning out into the world and just praying.
I’ve being reassigned. My job now is only to support, guide and love them…more and more, only when asked. They will, one day in the future (way, way future I hope) have families of their own that will be their first priority. That’s how it should be. They need to complete the cycle.
Have I mentioned that I don’t like change? That I hate not knowing what I’m doing? This job is new and unfamiliar and it makes me nostalgic for a different time. And. It. Sucks. Ass. Because I’m scared. Scared = fear. Fear = alcoholic out of control.
I am SO glad that I don’t drink any longer. This could have been VERY ugly indeed.