My boys moved out of the house they’d been sitting for thirteen months.
Their family home.
I told my zoo keeper, as I foraged around to add to his meagre possessions,
“Take this,” his carvings in wax.
“And this,” his metal crocodile doorstop.
“And don’t forget this,” his beer making paraphernalia.
He sadly looked at me as I loaded his arms.
“You’re moving into your own place now, you may never come back!” I encouraged.
“I know,” he said, “it’s sad!”
“Well, your brother came back twice so no worries,” he half smiled.
He’ll be fine. This is what he has been wanting to do for a long time and even more so since we returned and crashed the man cave!
I went and looked at the flat he and his brother are moving into. It is in an older building, with internal access and is large, spacious and cool.
Yesterday my film maker son came over for his dishes, leaving my cupboard almost bare, and to finish cleaning out his room, oh and to do laundry! Ha ha!
“Well Mum?” he asked as he walked unbidden into my office and I pulled away from my desk to give him the undivided attention he has grown to love and expect.
“Are you and Dad sad to see us go or are you ‘Yes! Party in the house now?'”
I took a deep breath,
“It’s time!” I smiled and nodded, “I am glad you’re moving out. It’s the right thing. I’m especially happy you and Simon are living together and have found such a comfortable place,” then added, “Why, how do you think we’d feel?”
“I don’t know, sad that your little boys are moving out and the family home is getting closer to being empty,” he said.
This afternoon he came over to get the last of his stuff from cupboards, I helped to pass him things that didn’t belong to me,
“Well, won’t you and Dad use those?” the clorox wipes.
“What will you drink out of?” the frozen Guinness glasses.
“I don’t want to leave you without,” the freshly cleaned microwave.
“Are you sure?” the rummaged bags of frozen food they’d bought.
He sorted himself out some incense to take and I sent him off with his towels, iron and pasta maker.
He was procrastinating; my stomach was sinking.
I pepped myself up with thoughts of the future, a clean house for days and days…
The last time we were at home with only one child, my film maker son was a baby,
at once moments and lifetimes ago!
“Oh how good and pleasant it is when brethren live together in unity.” (Psalm 133:1)
I’m singing the empty nest blues…away.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
No comments so far!
Leave a Comment