Confessions of a Daughterless Mother

I was listening to a conversation of two women in a waiting room last week. I was sitting just a few chairs away, their words loud enough I could hear as if I was sitting in their circle. I gathered the two were new friends, they spoke of shared common friendships and had both had a child graduate this year. One mom was sharing her concern over her 27-year-old daughter who was struggling. I saw her face. She was embarrassed, her eyes mirrored the worry in her heart. She took a chance sharing in this waiting room, with this woman. I could see her hesitate ... should she tell her story? Her daughter wasn't working, she'd been consumed with anxiety and unable to hold a job. She hadn't graduated college and she was dating a man who also didn't have a job. Her daughter's stepping stones weren't made of college graduations, new apartments, bridal showers and weddings.  No, they were made of mental health appointments, panic attacks and medications. My heart hurt l

I suppose I thought it might be easier this time. I suppose I thought, because I've done it once now, that sending my boy off to college wouldn't weigh so heavily on my heart. I suppose I thought the wisdom of experience, the fortune of having traveled this path before to guide me would make it all a little easier. Turns out, I was all wrong. What I will miss is different this time around.  What I will worry about has changed, too. And that knowing what to expect ... well it turns out to be a little bit of a pain in the ass because I know what's coming.  I know the homesickness, the struggle to fit, to make a new life right down to the sheets he sleeps on and the food he eats and how it hits them upside the head somewhere after ... well after the beginning. After the newness wears off and the reality of being on their own settles into their bones, that's when it gets tough. When Cooper left I mourned my tribe of five. Our dinners at home and the schedule