MUSINGS FROM THE MIND OF AMANDA

I’ve struggled this year. My only child graduated high school, got his NREMT certification and started his “grown-up” job. My husband has worked some overnight shifts most of the time we’ve been married, so the boy and I hav always had time where we could go eat or watch a movie or whatever and he got time with mom. Now he’s working a 48 hour shift, and even though my husband is home, the house feels so empty.

The cats are roaming the house looking for him. The dogs are standing around looking confused (which is not unusual, but still.), and the parking place where his truck sits is empty. No extra dishes in the sink. No extra laundry in the laundry room.

I’m so proud of him. This is what we raised him to do: grow up and get a job and get ready for his own life. But a part of me still misses the little baby who needed me. The toddler who brought me things and smiled and yelled “Mommy! Look!” The pre-teen with all the sass who still opened doors for me. The older teen who wouldn’t let me go to Wal-Mart alone because I might need his help or protection. The friend who was always home in case I suddenly needed a pizza and a buddy to help me eat it.

And there are times when my husband’s 24 on / 72 off and my son’s 48 on / 96 off shifts will coincide so that I have the whole house to myself. In the almost 19 years since my son was born, I doubt I’ve spent 15 nights home alone. I’m not scared; I have my pistol and my dogs. I’m just lonely, and experiencing a little early empty nest syndrome.

But I don’t want him to know. I want him to settle into work, save some money, decide where he wants to live, put a down payment on a nice house somewhere with the money he saved by living here, and have his own life. I don’t want him to worry about me…I’ll do enough worrying for him.