A Different Kind of Summer

By Ellen

They were here briefly, both of them. And now they've gone north for the summer. And I'm missing them like crazy!

My son graduated, finally, from the U of London and is now off at a "prestigious prep school" in Massachusetts as a teaching assistant for the summer. He is trying out the teaching profession to see if he likes it or not ... so far, he is over the moon about it. I'm just happy he's back on my side of the Atlantic, and happy that he will get the chance to impart his fierce love of English literature to those boys and girls.

Meanwhile my daughter came home from college in Georgia, slept like a log for days, then departed for the other end of Massachusetts, to be a painting/drawing instructor at a coed camp for kids. She was nervous and excited, having never laid eyes on the place before. She was immensely brave, getting on that airplane with her list of counselor duties and her favorite paints, and I think she'll have a positive impact upon a cabin of 11-year-old girls.

I'm proud of both of them, because they found these jobs themselves, aced the interviews and made the travel arrangements. I know they're okay. Mom? Not so good.

I miss summers with the kids in a way I didn't anticipate until now. This is the part of children leaving the nest that is bewilderingly sad for me ... I can rationalize them both being away in college, studying and making friends and groaning over tests and calling home for money and the like ... that's normal and right. There is a season for everything, and fall/winter/spring is the time go away and live the life scholastic. I have my own life, after all.

But summers should be all about drinking lemonade together, playing board games, going to the beach and to grandma's house, complaining about being bored while secretly enjoying it, sleeping really late and disagreeing with each other over the briefness of one's swimsuit or the length of one's hair.

Now my children are, in essence, extending their growing-up season into the three months of the year when I most want to have them with me ... when sitting around talking about life and watching the lightning bugs from the screened porch is so lovely and right, when everyone and everything slows down and reconnection can happen, when they walk in smelling hot and tired and outdoorsy and evoking the little-girl, little-boy fragrances of summers gone by. 

I miss that. I miss them. I have to content myself, for the time being, with sporadic phone calls and emails, or pull up the websites at the camp and school where they are and peer at the screen for a glimpse of them in photos. Or (yes, I admit it) going into their rooms and pulling out the jackets they each wore home and burying my face in them, just to believe their spirits still linger in my house.

Being a mother is all about connection, separation and reconnection, sometimes coming so rapidly that it takes your breath away. I can't hate myself for wanting the good old days of summer to return, even as I'm proud of them and their efforts to fill the summer months with growth. I just have to "ride the wave" until August, and do some growing up myself.

Ellen is a 50-year-old mother of two, stepmother of two, who lives in North Carolina with her family.

Comments

[Dina Gerdeman]

Hi there,

My name is Dina Gerdeman, and I am a reporter at The Patriot Ledger newspaper in Massachusetts. I am writing a story about the empty nest syndrome and I am very much interested in speaking to parents who are having a tough time with the separation from their children. If anyone is interested, please call me at 617-786-7082 or e-mail me at dgerdeman@ledger.com.
Thanks, Dina Gerdeman

[Dina Gerdeman]

Hi there,

My name is Dina Gerdeman, and I am a reporter at The Patriot Ledger newspaper in Massachusetts. I am writing a story about the empty nest syndrome and I am very much interested in speaking to parents who are having a tough time with the separation from their children. If anyone is interested, please call me at 617-786-7082 or e-mail me at dgerdeman@ledger.com.
Thanks, Dina Gerdeman

[Laundry Woman]

i know many women breathe a sigh of relief when that happens, but how, on earth, do you let go? I can only imagine myself standing in the doorway, empty hands, boobs no longer pulsating from the constant breastfeeding, heart outside my stomach, weeping uncontrollably and feeling like I missed it all.

[Kris]

You can crash here anytime you want to visit them! :)

[chris]

ellen, your words could not have resonated any louder than what they did in my head when i read your 'then and now' post. with 5 kids; we have one in grad school, one working to save for grad school, one a junior in college, another a junior in high school, and one more poised to enter middle school- i don't know if my heart can be stretched in any more directions at the same time. i do enjoy talking to them as adults, but i miss the little-kid phrases and stages. thanks for reminding us that ALL of these times are precious.

[daryday]

My girls--l2 and almost l4--are at camp for 6 weeks. It was like shell shock when they left. But this is what I did to treat empty nest syndrome. I made a list of all the people who don't have children the same age as mine, and I made plans with each of them. When my girls are home I try to socialize with their friends parents during the summer for the most part. So, I'm thinking of this as catch- up with- other- friends- time. I think sacrificing so many career opportunities when my children came along until they each entered school is not a choice I would make today. My tweenie wants to go to boarding school (for adventure!). I'm dying inside...but I can't hold her back. I want them with me always. But that means in a couple years she'll be gone. The 14 year old will only be here another 4 years before college... But in a way I got them back by them going away. I'm thinking about it, and I'm going to write it up after my July 4th barbeque and post it on my blog (darydayshow--it's a show for women, with or without children). And I just started a blog to go with the show, because I was a writer before I had children. I did't know which would come out first--a book I wrote or my first born. They were days apart. So, I think I started a blog partly because they went to sleepaway camp.Anyway,log on next week to my blog if you have time...and let me know what you think...If not I'll try to write here about why I think there's been good in them leaving for awhile...and how I think it brought them back closer to me in a way...I'm still thinking it through. I'm not ready to be where you are yet. I find myself counting the days until they come home the end of July. So, your story was helpful. Just knowing other mothers are feeling the same as you helps...Thanks...Dary P.S It's nice to know girls like your daughter are helping younger girls like my daughter. Your daughter sounds nice, so that makes mothers of young campers feel better!

[Robin P]

I don't know if I can type through my tears but I'll try.
I know there will be a day when I feel the same way and that hurts me even more. It's unbelievable that a child can be a daily part of your life for so long and then they're not there because they are off on their own.

When this happened to a friend of mine (her youngest went to England in the Air Force and her oldest went to live in California- We live in Mass.)she was so depressed. The boys are only about 14 months apart and they left around the same time. A double whammy!

My only words of wisdom to her were,"Be glad they were able to leave home and live on their own. They could be 30 and 32,unable to keep a job and living at home with Mommy! Be glad you raised them to live on their own. Be proud."

By the way,where in Mass are your kids? I wonder if they're close to me.