Corona Letters #46

The third time is the charm, right?

This fall is our third attempt at being empty nesters.

In 2017 we sent our youngest to college and she returned home in early 2018.

In 2018 we sent our youngest to college and she returned home in early 2020, and so did our older daughter, and so did my mother-in-law!?!?!  

As of last week, August 2020, we are starting our third attempt at being empty nesters.   Daughter #1 has moved to North Dakota.   Daughter #2 is back at college for her final year.  And, my mother-in-law is living with another family member for a while.

At best, being an empty nester during a pandemic feels temporary, unnerving and a little bit crazy.   At worst, there are very real fears of our fledgings not being able to come home if they get sick, or need to come back for any reason.

A little over a year ago I wrote a blog about planting trees as a desperate need for roots when faced with overwhelming reality of an empty nest.   In the past six months, I could have just as easily have written a blog about planting trees as a need of escape from a house that at times seemed over-crowded.   It is completely possible that as a direct result of all this coming and going, I have way too many trees in my yard.

I have no idea what empty nesting will look like this fall but I'll tell you one thing and that is,  I don't want my kids (or anyone else if you catch my drift) to come home.

I really don't.

I want to see the empty bedrooms, made beds and the open bedroom doors that have caused me so much heartache in the past.

I want to go to the grocery store and NOT buy their favorite foods.

I want to see across from their empty chairs at the dinner table.

It's not that I don't love them and miss them, because I do.  I do very much.

I want them to live their lives, and for this pandemic to leave them alone, and let them do their thing.

Most of the parents of college students that I know are praying every day to whatever god will listen that these kids will be able to stay at school, amongst their friends, even if the experience is nothing like it's ever been before.

It's where they are supposed to be.

The only thing worse than your college student being away from home, is them being home when they are supposed to be at college.

This I know to be true.

This is not my first rodeo.  In fact, it's my third.  

And, it's not even a rodeo.

It's a friggin' pandemic. (and it is my first one of those, so that makes this metaphor a bit confusing, and if I'm being totally honest I've never been to a rodeo either, but these are minor details)

I sure hope the third time is the charm and everyone gets to stay exactly where they are.  Please.

And if anyone needs me during this completely stressful and unsure time, I'll be in my backyard, planting more trees.    If you have trouble finding me, just pass the two oaks, take a right at the tall pine, climb the dogwood, swing over to the crabapple (my husband built the swing as one of his many pandemic projects), follow the arrow carved into the Yoshino cherry and then sit and rest a while under the weeping Katsura.   You might just find me on the rock between the Eastern Red Bud and the Japanese Maple, contemplating whether this is the right zone, and if we have the right soil for a Jacaranda tree.

The answer is we don't, but sometimes it will surprise you where things can thrive, even if it seems most unlikely.