My Name is Lynda and I'm a Pi Mom

Hello, my name is Lynda and I’m a Pi Mom.

What is a Pi Mom, you ask?  Well, I went from being a full-time Mom to an obsolete Mom in 3.14159265 seconds when my Jerry and her person, Keegan moved to another province ±1,400km away.  I’d like to think I gave her the guidance and courage to spread her wings and fly, I just didn’t realise how successful she’d be and how little she’d need me.  The abruptness sent me reeling.

I can remember, while growing up, hearing adults mentioning the words “empty nest”.  There wasn’t much talk about it, no details or advice, but usually it would be said with a sadistic, wry smile or just as a matter of fact, almost as though it was taboo to discuss or speak about it.

So when my nest became “empty” it was a swift and painful slap in the chops and, because nobody discusses it, I found myself floundering in deep water without the knowhow of how to swim out.  Nobody warned me about the pain, the loneliness, the guilt and the feelings of worthlessness.  In a flash, I was no longer needed to the extent that I had been before.

There were times when I would be doing something quite ordinary, like going for a walk in our neighbourhood.  I would have memories of conversations and laughter shared when we did that activity together and then the pain would actually be physical.  The kind of hollow pain that takes your breath away.

And then there’s the (very real) fear of getting old.  One day you’ve got a teenager/young adult keeping you young and up to date with the latest trends and conversations.  The next day you’re a fuddy-duddy.  Suddenly you’re not running in 15 directions attending to 15 different activities anymore.  You start to realise you’re getting older and, from time to time when you’re lying awake at night fighting desperately to keep your demons at bay, you will get faced with your own mortality.

And I found that my health took a knock which I believe is simply a result of the fact that my body realised that I had slowed down from running full tilt, and it took the opportunity to gently heal itself of things that I hadn’t had time to address before.

I think that the problem lies in the fact that we’re so busy being Mom that we neglect being anyone else.

But I think that herein lies the solution.

Because we’ve abruptly had our Mom Hats taken away, we now have the opportunity to fill that gap with many other hats (or crowns, if you so choose 😉).  This is our chance to reinvent ourselves.  To find ourselves.

We can choose many different hats at once, if we like. There is now more time for the ever-important self-care.  Re-evaluating our OWN personal goals going forward and putting the first steps in motion to realise those goals.  Revisit ideas of old or new hobbies, rekindle your friendships and relationships, learn something that you’ve always wanted to learn.  Rearrange your life around yourself.

When I feel particularly low, I know that the best way to drag myself out of that hole is to do something for someone else, visit an older family member or take some unwanted items to a charity or visit an animal rescue facility and offer to help for a few hours.  It takes your mind off how you feel and it works really well.  Don’t forget, of course, there’s always journaling and practicing the art of gratitude.

At the end of the day I’m still a Mom, I always will be.  I’m just a different aspect of Mom.  A lot less Mom than before, but still a Mom.  I just need to get used to that idea.  I wish MY Mom was here to discuss this with me.  I wonder how she felt after we all left the nest.

I still get regular phone calls from Jerry and Keegan keeping me updated on their exciting adventures or for advice or to have my ear bent about “you won’t believe what so-and-so did”.  And we have plans to get together in a few months, which is exciting and creates a spark of hope.

But I think that more needs to be said about “empty nest syndrome”.  The interweb tells me that it is not specifically diagnosed as a mental illness, however the symptoms displayed are.  We should be warning our peers and family about how they’re going to feel and what steps they can take to cope.  And we should just be there for each other.  I had vaguely toyed with the idea of writing this blog when I had two friends of mine mention how astonishingly awful they felt when their children had moved out and the devastating suddenness of it all.

So this is me telling you what I experience/experienced, and giving you my suggestions for how to arrange your face.  Most of all I want to let you know that, if you’re an empty nester, you are not alone.

Happy Day!