After dropping Baby Boy at college, we drove away in an aimless fog. The trip had been carefully planed through this point – then no plan, just the road ahead and the still silence in the car. Tears. Separately. Together.
We drove for hours, stopped when we were tired and hungry, slept, got up and drove to Chautauqua Institution in NY. I could not bear the thought of going home to that empty house. The new plan – exhaust ourselves. Go home so tired, that we fall asleep immediately. Do something we would never dream of doing with Jordan. So we spent the day at a center for the arts, education, religion and recreation. It was lovely and just what the doctor ordered. The sadness was still there but less penetrating.
Two days post drop off, I woke up at home to the strange and dreaded emptiness. I had no idea what to do. The previous year I tried to be home as much as possible in case J. happened to show up in between school and social activities. There was way more anticipation of spending time together than actual time spent together. When he did arrive it was usually for a nap. With Baby Boy gone now, I was free, anticipating nothing. Big whoop.
After J. was born I took up photography and completed a course in dark room techniques. I loved it. Developing a photograph, watching what emerges, is like opening a gift or perusing the garden and taking delight in the smallest signs of change. It was years since I had journeyed on my own just to take pictures.
I grabbed my old manual camera and perched myself on a large rock by the pond. I decided to take a photo of a frog sitting on a lily pad. It turned into an unplanned meditation. Five minutes – no frog. Ten minutes – no frog. Twenty, thirty – frogs were not cooperating with the plan. I looked skyward. Oh My G-d. I am surrounded by wild blueberry bushes. I have lived here for 3 years but never noticed. Picking fruit in the wild is one of my favorite activities. What a gift. I put the camera down and spent the rest of my journey collecting and eating the luscious fruits of transition.
With the gift of the blueberries, after two days in transition – preceded by a full year of anticipatory emotions – I got it. The empty nest brought the gift of noticing all that had been there for years, waiting to be discovered.
Post script: A year later, I continue to enjoy noticing the world and experiencing the joy of be-ing the mother to a delightful adult-in-process.
My wishes to you on your journey – may you accept all that transitions bring.