Becoming an Empty-Nester Pt.1

I am moving into the next space as a mother. And, honestly, I am really happy about this.

My son is an easy kid. He is emotionally mature. He is creative. He is healthy. He is honest and he is full of love to give. He was the opposite of difficult to raise. As much as I tried to remain “just” his mother over the years, he is also a sweet friend to me. He is my only kid and one of the closest hearts to my own that I might ever know. I consider myself blessed as a mother.

And he is leaving me in two months. At 19 years old, he is off on an adventure. And I won’t see him until Christmas unless I cave and fly to Norway. We drop him off at his folkehoyskole in August, and fly back to California as empty-nesters.

I am not sure how I feel about this. Mostly, I am really excited for him. I, too, traveled at his age, and he is following in my footsteps. A year in Scandinavia may likely become the best year of his life. I am full of the energy to follow his adventures, his story as it is being written. I am excited about him growing up into a more independent young man. I am happy that he is embracing this next step.

And oddly or not, when I tap into the deeper feelings underneath, I feel that I am also beginning to grieve. Primally, the grief is about no longer being a central part of his life. There is even a grief over…