My Nest Isn't Even Empty, but I'm Grieving Anyway

God, I hope this is one of those pre-grieving experiences.

If you're not familiar with pre-grief, let me tell you about it because I feel like I am an expert.

Pre-grieving is when you start getting emotional before the thing has even happened. I'm pretty used to the pre-grief process; I cry two weeks before my late husband's birthday and then I'm fine on the actual day. The anniversary of his death makes me shaky the month before, but I usually just bop through the day like there's nothing wrong.

It's weird and hard to explain to other people.

I feel like I'm in that process now. My oldest will be graduating from high school in the spring, but like any good pre-griever I'm crying a good 5 months before it's going to happen. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of how many "lasts" we're going through and how things are changing already.

This weekend she cleaned out her room (a miracle that any normal mom would be celebrating) and we talked about getting her a bigger desk.

"But maybe we shouldn't," she said as she looked at the bare corner of her room. "I only have a few months of studying here anyway."

I was thinking it, too, but I couldn't bear to say it out loud.

Now, keep in mind that it's not like I'll be alone. I still have two kids to go and another five years before it's completely quiet in my house. And I keep reminding myself that you never know what the future holds - by the time they've all gone to college, my oldest could be coming back to live at home (because what kid out of college can afford their own place these days???). And I know that just because kids grow up, that doesn't mean you ever stop being a parent.

I'm somewhat bi-polar about this whole process. One minute I'm crying about it and the next I've made peace with it (definitely in crying mode now). I've been the solo parent for 12 years and by the time my youngest is 18, I will have been doing this on my own for 17 years. So, by the time they're all off flying on their own, I'll be due a little downtime.

The problem is, I don't know if I want it.

My therapist (who I'm going to see right after I finish typing this) told me that she once had a patient who struggled for a year before her nest was empty.

"And then when it actually happened," she said, "she LOVED it."

Oh, I hope that's the case.

And the truth is, I know I would be feeling this way, widowed or not. As much as I've worked to create my own identity outside of my children, I consider myself a mom above everything else. My family is everything to me. And right now I can't bear to think about the changes to come.

If I'm being completely honest (heck. Why not?), sometimes I think it would have been just as hard if my husband was still alive. Back before I lost him, I realized we were one of those couples who had a hard time coming up with topics that didn't include the kids. So, I know this would have been a period of adjustment - just in a different way.

I have so many widow friends in the virtual community who have already gone through what I'm about to experience. And every time I've read a post over the years, I've cringed knowing that I was going to go through it, too.

It just seemed to happen so fast.

But tomorrow is another day and I might feel completely different.

Actually, there's a good chance my pre-grieving might stop today the moment they walk in the door from school arguing about who stole someone's phone charger and who gets to take the first shower.

Life is always changing.

From Potty Training to Driver's Ed: Parenting Ain't for the Weak

It just occurred to me at around midnight last night that I have to teach three kids how to drive.

This realization is coming a bit late. After all, I've already taught one. But the next one is now on the horizon and I had a wide-eyed "oh shit" moment as I was trying to go to sleep last night when I realized that, once again, I would be gripping the handle on the ceiling of the passenger side of my car as I taught a kid how to park within the lines without hitting a tree.

Actually, what Haley (my oldest) says I do is start backing away from the door of the car - as if those extra three inches are going to save my life in a teenager-induced crash.

The problem is that I'm a pretty bad passenger in general now; after 10 years of being the only driver in the family (and one year of surviving being the parent of a teenage driver), I'm just not comfortable in the passenger seat anymore. People either go too slow, too fast, come too close to the car next to them, or change lanes in a way that I don't find acceptable.

I don't care if you're a seasoned driver or just got your license - if I'm in the car with you, I'm probably thinking you shouldn't be on the road.

Anyway, I mentioned my epiphany to my son this morning as I was driving him to school.

"I just realized that I have to be the one to teach all of you guys how to drive," I said.

I got the grunt that has been his standard answer to everything since he turned 14.

"I don't know why I didn't realize it before," I said. "But it's kind of like right after your dad died and I realized that I was the one who was going to have to potty train Sarah all by myself. It's a lot of pressure."

Yes, making sure that your child can successfully use the toilet and/or drive him or herself the two miles to school and back by the time you unleash them on the world is a lot.

But that's widowhood for you.

~

I was watching an interview on the TODAY Show with Michelle Obama when they asked what she was up to.

"Well, getting my youngest ready for college," she said. "Senior year is intense."

PREACH.

Why didn't anyone tell me this before? Just as I was getting used the fact that my oldest was pretty independent and I wasn't needed quite as much, her senior year in high school hit and I'm busier than when she was a baby and I had to be up every two hours with her.

Essays, applications, financial aid, and all those damn forms for graduation. And then there's the "last everything" - the last varsity game she's involved in, the last concert, the last time she'll take a science class she'll never use. 

And the emotional fluctuation! Just as I've made peace with the fact that her leaving the nest is a natural thing, she's in my room crying because she just realized that she only has 105 choir concerts left of high school (all of which you somehow need to find time to attend AND create some sort of video montage of your kid, complete with heart-wrenching note about how much they've grown, how well they drive and how well they use the potty).

I'm actually not entirely sure how my other two kids are doing because I'm so focused on launching the oldest one. I'm assuming they're making it to school. I think their grades are okay, but I can't figure out how to log into that online parent thingy (I miss paper report cards). The only reason I know they're still around is because I occasionally take meaningful pictures of them, now knowing that in just a few years I will need to create an Oscar-worthy documentary about their lives for the last day of whatever after school activity they're in...otherwise we will be shamed by the other families.

It's exhausting.

Every week I wonder how we can logistically make everything happen. And apparently every week I hold out hope that the next week will be calmer.

"This week is a little crazy," I said to my mom recently. "But I think next week will be better."

"You say that every week," she finally pointed out six weeks into the school year and on my third day without a shower.

I'm trying to live in the moment. I know that I'm going to blink and the house will be empty and quiet. The car will wonder why it's not going back and forth to the school 20 times a day, even though I only have three kids. The kitchen table will sit there, quietly reminding me of family dinners. No one will come into my bedroom at 11:00 at night in tears because they forgot to start that 50 page essay that's due first period the next day. No more potty training. No more drivers ed.

Yes. Someday I'll just sit in a hot bath because three people didn't shower before I started the water and realized there wasn't a drop of warm water left, a wine glass in my hand, book resting on the side of the tub, thinking about all of the years before when that was impossible because someone needs something right now.

Wait. That actually sounds pretty good.

Oh, How Things Have Changed

Today is the 11th anniversary of my husband's passing. And while I've spent some of the last week engaging a little bit in the angry cry (and always at the WORST possible time), today I've actually been thinking more about what has changed in 11 years.

Yes, there's the obvious answer - the kids. As I go to workshop after workshop about college funding and wondering how I got into this mess of doing it all myself, the passage of time is staring me directly in the face (and taunting me).

But lately I've been thinking about the actual things that have changed in 11 years and that makes me sad, too, because I keep envisioning how Brad would have embraced (or shunned) them. And here's what I've come up with.

1. The Smart Phone

Oh, how he would have loved it. He died using a flip phone and just before texting was really a big deal - fate is truly cruel. Considering how much he HATED talking on the phone, non-verbal communication would have been his dream come true. And what about the endless apps he would have downloaded??? This would have helped any communication issues we might have because he'd probably be too occupied to communicate.

2. Anything at Best Buy

But mainly TVs. We had one of the HUGE 60" box TVs when he died which I immediately got rid of in favor of a flat screen (although my first one was embarrassingly small). I have a feeling right now we'd have one of those curved 3D 205" TVs with a sound system that would blast you through the back wall. And we would be taking advantage of a lot of 0% financing.

3. Cars

Now, this one I don't know if he would have liked as much. Since he loved working on cars and cars these days really can't be worked on, I'm not sure he would have liked it. But I'm sure he would have LOVED all of the gadgets we have now. Sirius XM radio, touch screens, USB outlets for every seat...

...of course what would really piss him off is that I still like driving a minivan.

4. Top Golf.

The kids and I went to Top Golf today. It's funny how when we celebrate "Daddy Days" that's where they want to go because Brad was a fairly horrible golfer. However, he would have loved the whole thing and the technology behind it. So, in a weird way it's entirely appropriate that we remember him there...even though he's never been.

5. Politics

Lots of change. Enough said.

6. Video Games

Every once in a while, I let my son buy a video game at just random times. He is very sweet and says it's not necessary to which I always reply, "Your sisters have bought at least $60 worth of hair products in the last couple of months. And if your dad were here you'd have a LOT more video games than you do now. Go for it."

7. Mattresses

I bought a king-sized Temperpedic a few years ago which weren't around in 2007 (I don't think). I truly think that that would have saved us a lot of marital stress if we'd had one when he was still with us. He used to tell me that I was like Sid the Sloth in Ice Age when I tried to go to sleep - I flop around for about 2 hours until I get comfortable. A mattress that doesn't bounce would have been his dream come true.

8. iPads 

Considering how much he ignored me as he played computer solitaire, I would have been completely on my own had he ever discovered Angry Birds.

9. Uber

No more pesky arguments about who the designated driver will be!

10. Roomba

I don't have one, but I'm betting if Brad were here, that would have been my Christmas gift years ago. And it probably would have been modified for flight or something.

11. Netflix and Bingewatching

There are MANY shows on TV that I don't watch because I'm squeamish and can't imagine watching them alone. AND I live with three teenagers, so my TV is usually tuned into an episode of Riverdale or one of the Twilight, Divergent, or Hunger Games series. If their father were here, there'd be a lot more Game of Thrones and a lot less ridiculous drama.

12. GPS Systems

This ties into the phone thing, but we actually had a SEPARATE HAND-HELD GPS SYSTEM for when we went camping. That's right. None of this Google Maps business or car navigation. We were old school. And often fought because I can't read a map.

13. Anything space related

Without my rocket scientist here, I'm completely out of the loop. But I did get teary with the final farewell to the Cassini project - a program he worked on at Cape Canaveral when we were first married. Bet he would have liked to have seen that.

14. Amazon

I think it's safe to say that Prime would have ruined my marriage.

15. Keurig

For such a manly man, my husband liked really frou-frou coffee. The fact that he could have chosen from 5,000 flavors would have been awesome for him. However, he was also incredibly frugal in some ways...so he might have resisted it.