Empty Nests

Since last fall, I've been haunted by some words my sister said.  We were talking about our respective teenagers and grousing how they pay rare attention to us anymore.  Gone are the spontaneous hugs, handmade Mother's Day cards, tickle fights, hand prints in hardened plaster, Santa Claus and unconditional love.   We are definitely entering the phase where we want them but they don't need us.  Then my sister made the comment I can't get out of my mind -- "Are the best times in life really over?"

I wanted to scream "No!"   Of course it can't be true.  We live in a culture that celebrates tomorrow even when today screams "Uncle."  But after seven months of pondering the existential question of "Are my best days behind me," I had to come to a reluctant and almost whispered "yes."

Don't get me wrong.  I'm hopeful for some good times ahead.  Maybe even lots of good times like becoming a well-paid, full-time writer.  Or seeing more of the world and traveling to many new places.  And if I'm really lucky, a grandmother.  I love to spoil babies rotten.  Just ask my dog.

Still, the truth remains.  The best times are over and that's okay.  So what does that mean for the time I have left?

My friend Nancy, a sixty-five year old social worker who serves people on hospice lifted up the epiphany I sought.  I overheard her describing her job to someone else.

"I visit patients and their families.  I help them get financial support if they need it or I help them put their final wishes in order.  I listen to their concerns.  Sometimes I just hold a patient's hand and we sit in silence. Every day I know I've made a difference in someone's life."

For me there has been no greater joy than having and raising my kids, but making a difference in the lives of others is a near second.  I'll focus on the later as the nest empties.