I know that YOU know something is going on even though I haven’t said anything directly. My pattern of blogging, tweeting and posting around the webby world has not been “my” normal. So it is time for me to come clean, let my heart hang out and tell you what is happening.
When I was four years old I not only loved dolls, the kind that look like babies, but I wanted mine to become alive. I always asked for babies that ate and wet because that was as close to a real baby as I could get at the time. I remember thinking back then that all I wanted was a real baby and when I got “big” someday, I was going to have a real baby of my own.
After babying my younger sister and dragging her around everywhere I went until I graduated from high school, I finally got married. Long before I got pregnant, my sister had my niece and they both moved in with me and my first husband. That’s when I was able to baby my niece and even my sister again. Eventually when I hit thirty years old, I had the wonderful privilege of giving birth to a beautiful daughter. So for the last almost twenty-two years, my arms have been full while Alyssa and I have lived together. We’ve laughed, cried, played and talked and talked and talked.
My plan as her mother was two fold:
- I would NOT give her my fears and insecurities.
- I would give her the best parts of me.
Many times over the years I saw Alyssa confidently navigate one experience or another. Little things she did and some of her thought patterns reassured me that Alyssa had gotten many of my good traits and character strengths. Overall, I feel that I have been a successful mother and motherhood has fulfilled me. The whole mothering experience has made me a better person.
Having one child means that I put all my eggs in one basket. Everything I could do mother-wise I have experienced with Alyssa. Being a single mother much of the time also brought the two of us closer together. Alyssa knows me not only as her mother, but sees me as a woman with hopes, dreams, weaknesses and strengths. She knows me just about as good as I know her.
In my own mind I identify myself as a mother and my thoughts are always on what I can do to add happiness to my daughter’s life.
Anyone who knows me or reads my blog knows that I love my daughter more than I can express. Being her mother has been and still is the ultimate happiness of my life.
If you love hard,
don’t apologize for your superpower.
Nothing ever stays the same and Alyssa is now a beautiful young woman. She needs to test her wings in a big way and our lives are going to be different now.
Alyssa has moved to the other side of the universe and I’m lost inside the four walls of my home.
My daughter hasn’t literally moved to the other side of the universe, but it feels like it. I’m on the east coast and she’s on the west coast. To me that’s the other side of the universe.
I wake up in the morning and my first thought is, “Alyssa isn’t going to need me to do anything for her today. Her bedroom and bathroom are empty. Her car isn’t parked outside. I won’t see her beautiful face when her work day is over.” I’m so lost. I try not to cry, but tears just keep on taking over at their whim.
I’m happy for her and SO PROUD of my daughter. Alyssa has a wonderful career which she has studied hard to improve her skills and expand her knowledge. She has obtained a new job and arranged everything from traveling across the country to moving into her own apartment. It hit me today that obviously I have been a good mother and had fulfilled my plan as a mother. Alyssa has been confident enough to move on her own to the other side of the country and has everything arranged to live there successfully. Knowing that I had a big part in helping Alyssa develop the wonderful traits she has now is comforting because I’m struggling with feeling like a nothing right now.
I really am lost. In a way I feel like something has died inside of me.
Well, I have a dog and turtle that rely on me for their existence, but I don’t have a daughter coming home today or tomorrow or the next day. My constant mothering days are over.
This is “normal” for children and “normal” for me to feel the emptiness of the nest, but “normal” isn’t feeling all that great. It feels empty and lonely.
and trust the journey
will be for your
happiness and progression.
Part of me wants to runaway, but to where I have no idea. The other part of me wants to hide, so that’s what I’ve done. I’m pretty much avoiding everyone so that I can cry in private peace.
I don’t want people to try to comfort me because there is no comfort anyone can give to me.
I don’t want people to ask how I’m doing because I don’t want to tell a lie and say, “Fine!” nor do I want to tell the truth.
I don’t want people to give me advice because I just want to grieve, cry and try to get my mind around this new kind of life that I’m facing ahead.
So today I cleaned every little nook and cranny in the refrigerator. Since that didn’t make me feel better, I went into her very empty bathroom and cleaned it from the top to the bottom. Stuff is cleaner and I’m more tired, but there’s still that tender, empty space in my heart that is missing my sweet daughter’s presence. Alyssa’s not just around the corner or even an hour away. She’s ALL THE WAY on the other side of the country and it feels so very far away.
I know that it is going to take time and effort to find my own path without Alyssa around. I’ve learned to be patient with myself, so that won’t be a problem. I guess at this point, there’s nothing more to do than just take it one day at a time. I’ll continue to celebrate my daughter’s successes and do whatever I can from this far away. The real struggle will be figuring out what I’m going to do to fill this big hole in my life.