Tag Archives: empty nest

Winnebago Dreams

10 Wednesday Dec 2014

Posted by in Out & About

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

covered wagon travel
For many years I dreamed of the day when I could hit the road and see a little more of the world, taking right up where I left off BC (before children). I was sure that as soon as they were “grown and gone” I would sell off everything I didn’t need and buy a Winnebago so that I could travel around the country seeing what I could see. That was going to be my answer to the eventual empty nest syndrome. It was going to be…

Well, the children are grown and gone. I down-sized quite a bit, but I still have a garage full of “stuff” I couldn’t bear to part with – yet. And there’s no Winnebago, or covered wagon, in my driveway.

My little HHR has been the stand in, and it has done a great job taming the miles that I have put in so far. But, in the midst of all my travels, I have made an unexpected discovery – I love to “go”, but I’m not all that crazy about the driving these days. It all starts out well enough, I do enjoy seeing the beauty of my surroundings and all of the interesting scenes flying past my window, but after a few hours of being under the wheel I’m suddenly over it and I just want to ‘be there’ – wherever ‘there’ is.

I can remember a time when I would just jump into my car and take off, without a moment’s hesitation. I lived for the pure joy of having someplace to go and the adventure of getting myself there. The prospect of driving for sixteen hours straight didn’t faze me. And then one day, things changed. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it happened.

Perhaps it was around the time that my ophthalmologist suggested bifocals, or maybe it was the year that I surrendered to the rebel gray and stopped coloring my hair. Now that I think about it, it very well could have been right around the first time some smarty-pants teeny bopper cashier slipped a Senior Citizen discount onto my receipt without asking if I qualified.

These days, I don’t just jump in my car and take off, I carefully calculate time and distance and mood before I embark on one of my adventures. And surprisingly, I have found that I’m not above changing my mind at the last minute and staying home. I’d like to blame my e.m.PD, but I have a sneaking suspicion that getting older is the more viable culprit that makes me less inclined to venture too far from the comforts of home.

Needless to say, I’ve decided to put the Winnebago dream on hold for the present time. At least, until I meet a travel buddy who loves to drive, or they invent autopilot for motor homes.

It could happen.

Empty Nest

03 Thursday Apr 2014

Posted by in Out & About

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Empty Nest

While out shopping a few days ago I saw a young lady, probably in her mid- to late-twenties, wearing a T-Shirt that proudly proclaimed, “I STILL LIVE WITH MY PARENTS”. At least, I’m guessing she was wearing it of her own volition. I could be wrong. I could actually see some parents using that shirt to — well, never mind, that’s not the point of this post.

The point of this post is to say how much I am enjoying MY empty nest. Oh dear! Now that I actually see that written down, it sounds a little like I’m gloating, and I’m not. Really. It’s more like reveling, or maybe rejoicing. Yes, rejoicing, that’s it.

As my youngest child neared graduation from high school, and started making plans to attend college in another state, family and friends would point out, in rather ominous voices, “Uh-oh. You’re about to have an empty nest.” Is it wrong that I didn’t see a down-side to that? The angst of dreary days spent bemoaning the fast approaching “empty nest syndrome” just never happened for me.

Instead, I took every opportunity to count my blessings and look forward to this transition. It was time.

It was time for me to celebrate the fruits of my labor. It was time for my little nuts to stop clinging to my branches and find their own little patch of ground in which to take root. It was time for my little birdies to spread their wings and soar! OK, that’s a little bit of metaphoric over-kill, but you get my drift.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my children to no end, and we are quite close. Aside from letting them move back in, there isn’t much that I wouldn’t do for them. In fact, when they were younger, I was the typical, in my son’s words, “over-protective dictator”. Looking back, I guess I can see how he would misinterpret my zealous attempts at parenting vigilance. Kids. They just don’t understand – until much later when they have their own.

Linda Walter, LCSW, has an interesting article posted over on Psychology Today called “Empty Nest Without Feeling Empty”. In it, she addresses Empty Nest Syndrome, and shares a few helpful tips on ways to deal with the condition. Check it out if you think you may be at risk, or if you’re just curious.

I was happy to find that several of the tactics I employed in my particular situation fit nicely with her suggestions, like the one on planning ahead. From the time they were in middle school, my children were told (with much love), “Go to school, or go to work – either way, you have to go.” I didn’t want them to be surprised when I gave them luggage for graduation.

So far, the results have been positive, and my birdies are successfully learning to be independent and self-sufficient. To top it all off — I have a pretty cool nest where I am free to spread my own wings. Win-win.

The Longest Move

23 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by in Out & About

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

The Long RoadThis has been my longest move EVER – and it isn’t over yet. I’m not actually referring to distance, that trophy would go to my Germany move back in the late 80’s, and returning stateside in the 90’s. What I’m referring to for this move is the amount of time invested.

Earlier this year, near the end of January, I started to feel compelled to hit the road again. I had finally emptied my nest and figured the best way to keep it empty would be to move it. I love, love, love my little birdies, but I want to discourage any ideas they might have about moving back in. Don’t judge – it’s for their own good. Besides, after nearly eight years of aging in place, I was more than ready for a change of scenery.

My family has always referred to me as a “road warrior” because I would pack up and hit the road at the drop of a hat. Sometimes it was a permanent relocation, sometimes it was just a road trip to see what I could see. I loved the excitement of a new adventure and I didn’t care if I had to roll solo. In fact, I rather enjoyed those trips with just me, myself, and I. It gave me time to think, and I didn’t have to deal with anybody’s needs but my own. For an added sense of security I would occasionally dress one of my large Teddy bears in a shirt and tie, slap on a hat and sunglasses, and strap him into the passenger seat. And yes, we (meaning me) would talk off and on during the trip if one of us happened to be in the mood for conversation.

But I digress. In the past, I always had a solid plan in place before I hit the road, even if it was a spur of the moment thing. This time I only had a vague idea of where I could end up if nothing better materialized in the interim. This was both disconcerting and exhilarating, but it allowed me to keep my options open. Initially, I figured I would land on the West Coast until I could decide on something more definitive and permanent. So, for two months I packed, and sorted, and discarded, and packed some more. That whole down-sizing thing was a lot harder than I expected. But, I finally got the things I couldn’t part with stashed in a storage unit, sold a lot of stuff at a moving sale, and donated the rest – almost two truckloads. It’s amazing how much “stuff” gets accumulated over the years, especially for a border-hoarder such as myself.

Finally, after months of preparation, and packing, and storing, and tying up loose ends, I crammed my little HHR to the roof with my “necessities” and hit the road. Picture a covered wagon headed west during the land rush, or the Beverly Hillbillies heading down Santa Monica Blvd – minus the loaded bank account. For the past three months I have been living out of my car, heading westward on my latest adventure. Thanks to the generosity of family and friends, I didn’t have to live in my car. So, I meandered through my list of “places in Texas where I might like to live instead of going to California”, stopping here and there to see what I could see. For a while it seemed as though every time I managed to wedge a door open, it unceremoniously slammed shut, right in my face. I was beginning to think that it was time to accept reality and make my way out west – do not pass GO, do not collect $200. Then, I happened to find myself in the South Plains of Texas. Definitely not on the aforementioned list, I was just passing through on my way elsewhere. I decided that since I was in the area, I might as well see what I could see. And the doors opened. In fact, doors are opening all around me, no wedging required. In a few weeks I will go back to Bama and retrieve the rest of my things from storage, and this move will be complete. Finally. Meanwhile, I’ll be roughing it – foraging for food in the nearby woods, writing my posts by moonlight, and sending messages with a smoky blanket. Just kidding – a little.

To sum it all up, and make a long story longer, I guess I just want to say that I’m glad I was open to unexpected opportunities. God has blessed me above and beyond my expectations and I am grateful. I don’t know who originally said this, or remember where I heard it, but there really are times when you think things are falling apart, and they are actually falling into place.