While out for a walk in my neighborhood this week, a mom I know, driving her well-used Suburban, called out to me. She has six children -- the youngest is in middle school, the oldest is several years out of college.
If you haven't gone off to college yet and are just itching to leave home... well, I have to tell you, be careful what you wish for. There are a lot of things you might miss.
I sat with my mother on my bed as the movie ended. We pretended that we weren't both heartbroken at the thought of her only daughter moving away from home and simply focused on how great I would look in my new trench coat traipsing around New York City à la Anne Hathaway.
I was aware that there were vacuous black holes in my son's mental database, holes that I should have filled before he left. But he was done listening. For now.
Freshman year hit me like a freight truck. It was the hardest, scariest, best thing that has ever happened to me, and I wouldn't change one part of it.
My daughter will be fine, I tell myself. She will be fine, she tells herself. And yet the ache of longing for both of us makes us, if only for a moment, wish to stay put in our safe harbor, to stand fast in the life we have made.
Several mom friends of mine have lately come down with a bad case of "empty-nest depression" -- moms who just dropped off their youngest offspring to ...
I had a rare glimpse into the gaping maw of my Empty Nest Future and lemme tell ya, it was bleak. I won't mince words. I walked around the house weeping.
Since I left home in Cuba, I have learned to value autonomy, to distrust the subsidies and all these "gifts" that they constantly throw in the faces of citizens.