The Empty Nest

Well, she's moved out. I'm in Halifax now, at my neice's house. The original plan was to stay at Amber's last night on the couch, but it didn't make it from Port Hawkesbury yet, so I'm over here. So that found me leaving her behind in her new apartment with the boyfriend a day early...WAHHHHHHH...I had been holding it together very well, thank you, all along. Denial was working pretty good for me. Then as I left this young lady's apartment, she demanded tears from me before I left and then set to work telling me the reasons why I should be crying...ask and you shall receive...I cried the whole way here, and then some.

So there I stood, a blubbering mess, locked in embrace with my only child, leaving her as she begins the next chapter of her life - in her own home. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Gawd, I'm blubbering again now.

How did I get here so fast? How can I be the mother of a grown child who lives in another city? Where is that child who would patter out from her room, Sally Ann (the doll) tucked under one arm as she sleepily rubbed her eyes and croaked out "good morning mommy". It's one of my favorite memories of her childhood. I heard this for years, and now I long to hear it again. Since moving into my new place, I have set this Sally Ann upon my closet shelf - she too had been outgrown...and when I feel lonesome, I will leave that door open so that I may remeniece about this child. My friends say having Sally Ann and the other dolls of her childhood on the shelf creep them out, but they bring me only comfort - although I have to admit, the porcelain doll is a bit creepy and will soon find new quarters.

I have left my daughter to take her place in the crowd - go now Amber and make me proud. (paraphrased from a poem by Florence Brown that will be posted in a few days).