The Gang of Four filled the house for Easter weekend. Each child lives in a different city (Columbus, Cincinnati, Athens (OH), and New York City). Getting the four of them together at the same time takes luck, the stars coming into a cosmic alignment, and a cheap airline ticket.
Prior to their visit, I was bouncing-off-the-wall excited. In anticipation of their visit, I freshened their rooms; sent out texts requesting any specific snacks, meals, and side dishes they'd like for the Easter dinner; made numerous trips to the grocery store; and survived a tour bus throng at Esther Price where I bought their Easter basket goodies.
Even though my kids are 22, 24, 26 and 28, I slip back into Mama mode when they are home. Being a mom is a big...no, HUGE...part of who I am. When the kids are home, I feel like I smile bigger and laugh harder. I feel so comfortably "me" because this was my full time job for so many, many years.
My kids are happy with their lives and I am happy that they are happy. When it is time for them to leave, I have to put on that brave mom face, give them a hug that lasts a little longer and squeezes a little tighter, and then say good-bye like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal. For a couple of days after they leave, I'm in a bit of a funk. I miss the full house and the commotion that comes with it, I miss the laughter, I miss the sibling interaction, I miss my kids.
But I am sure proud of where they're going.
"When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottles of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States."
~ Erma Bombeck
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