The Moment Collector

Whew. These last few days have kicked my ass.

School starts this week, which has actually never been an easy time for me. I don't know if other widows experience this, but back-to-school has always signified the passing of time like almost nothing else does. It's another year of firsts, another year he's missing.

This year's back-to-school is compounded by the fact that my oldest is leaving for college across the country later this week. And while I spent the beginning of last school year crying, I quickly got a hold of myself, determined not to let my grief over her leaving spoil the time I had left with her.

And now the time has come.

I hope I'm not delusional in thinking that in a couple of weeks, I think I'll be okay. It's just the anticipation of this goodbye that's got me thinking I need to increase my anxiety meds for the short-term. Truthfully, as most parents of teenagers will probably agree with, I don't see her much now - and she's still living in my house.

So, in many ways, I think our day-to-day won't be that different from how we've experienced this summer. There have been moments when I've had to stop and ask myself, "Is she even home?"

But I will miss her. As I type this, I have a ball of nausea pinging around my stomach.

I've been trying to find some coping tools to help me get through this week (one of which has been binging on Downton Abbey - it's been on nonstop). I was going through my bookshelf and I found a book I bought long ago called 1,001 Ways to Live in the Moment. And I opened it up to #1.

Precious Moments

The miser who hoards his wealth but neglects the more important values of life is a figure rightly disdained in folklore and literature. Trying to hold on to the moment is similarly desperate. Instead, appreciate the unfolding wealth of life as it presents itself to your experience. The moment passes; beauty fades; life follows its eternal cycle of birth, death and rebirth. Let precious moments pass in to memory, without regret. And don't spend your life in the memory-vault fondling the accumulated riches you've stored there - search out and welcome fresh moments instead of reliving stale ones.

This really struck me because for the first time I realized that I am not just a memory collector - I'm a memory hoarder. While some people fill their homes with stuff to the point where they can barely move, I try to fill my life with moments to the point where I can barely move forward.

When I was a young adult, I went through a time when I had to have as much time with my parents as I could. It was like I was starved for it. Any vacation time I had from work was spent going to see them. And I know you're thinking that that makes me a model daughter, but the truth is that I was almost trying to absorb every bit of them that I could. And it would never be enough.

I don't think I've ever been especially good at "searching out and welcoming fresh moments" because I'm so intent on making moments that are mine, that I can keep and store and submerge myself in.

All this goes back to, again, not living in the present. It's not enough that I'm having a moment with friends or family - I have to do it so intensely and make it the most memorable and fulfilling moment I possibly can.

And in the end, I put so much pressure on these moments, I don't think it's possible to truly enjoy them. I put so much weight on each moment, it's kind of a wonder I don't have an ulcer or that I'm not on stronger meds than I am.

It's true that this is a huge time of transition and I'm allowing the tears to come as much as I possibly can. I just don't want to put so much pressure on each moment I have left with my family under the same roof that I end up not enjoying any of it.