Ever since our daughter and her three children moved in with us eight long years ago, I secretly looked forward to the day when I could relcaim my home, my life and my freedom.In 2005 our daughter and her three little ones, ages six, four and three moved in with us. Our daughter was being physically and mentally abused by the children’s tather. She was depressed, on the brink of giving up, so my husband and I decided that the only thing we could do to protect her and the children was to step in and bring them home.Our daughter was 30 when she moved in, she was a nurse, had a good job and had been out on her own for some time. This was not her idea of the perfect situation, but she had no choice. She needed the protection and financial help.We all had to adapt to the new situation. Why is it, when my child lives on her own in her own home, she will clean, cook, do laundry and keep her own home immaculate, but when she moves back home, all of that becomes Mom’s responsibility again. I had mounds of laundry to do on a daily basis, picking up after three small children (well, if you count my daughter, than four), grocery shopping was an all day event, the cleaning never ended and cooking, (I almost killed my husband with macaroni and cheese and pizza.) His cholesterol shot up and he had borderline diabetes when I was through with him. And we eventually had to build on to our home to accommodate our growing family.I was a Realtor at the time and my husband was building a construction business and a radon mitigation business. It’s not like we didn’t have enough to do before all this happened. I developed fibromyalgia. They say that fibromyalgia is caused from stress… do you think there might be a connection there?We muddled through year after year. I started calling our home “The Non-Profit Bed & Breakfast”, but in the back of my mind I would dream of the day when all of this would work itself out; my daughter would meet Prince Charming, the kids would love and accept him and they would all live happily ever after… in their own house!That day finally came on New Year’s Day 2013. Prince Charming did come along and sweep them all off their feet and they found a home in a nearby town. I walk into their empty bedrooms and their neat and tidy bathroom lacking of dirty, wet towels on the floor… and reality slaps me in the face… I’m alone! Why am I not happy? Why am I not dancing through my great big empty house with laughter and song? What is wrong with me?I discovered that I am experiencing “Empty Nest Syndrome”. How often does this happen in a lifetime? I am 61 years old… you would think that I would have a handle on this by now. I had three children, nurtured them, loved them to the moon and back. They all moved out after they graduated from high school. At some point they have all come back home for a short while to live with us again, they regroup, then move on again. I have grandchildren that come and go all the time.These feelings of emptiness won’t go away, my heart is truly broken.”They don’t need me anymore.”
“Everything that I did focused around my family.”
“What is my purpose.”
“Where do I go from here?”I know I will get through this storm with prayer and meditation. I need to focus my thoughts on other things, maybe “Me” for a change. There is a life out there with my name on it. A new direction, a new road that hasn’t been traveled before. I will search for my rainbow!