Paul's Heart

The Quiet Place

No, I am not talking about the horror movie. But I am referring to a different major emotion. Yesterday was a day that I had repeated so many times prior, though this time had a much bigger impact on me, the end of Summer visit with my daughter(s) (my older daughter had returned previously).

In the first half of their lives, we had never been apart from each other except for one time, and it was a “biggie,” my emergency heart surgery. Unfortunately, later on, divorce would create what my body’s health betrayal could not do, separate us. In the end, I would become a “non-custodial” parent which meant that my daughters would spend the majority percentage of time with their mother, which is not to be confused with “legal custody” which referred to everything else in regard to my daughters, which was “shared” equally at 50-50. I crafted my own custody arrangement following the disappointing attempt by my attorney. On paper, it was a cooperative agreement, with the intent to avoid conflict especially around holidays, all the while allowing me to have quality time with my daughters.

Because of technology, the absence between us and our visits, I was able to talk to and see them whenever I was able to get through to them, which was suffice in between our actual visits with each other. I can tell you, as an adult child of divorce, I wish my father would have had that option available to him. Technology would have helped him to get around the issues he had with my mother. But that is another story.

So all that was left to enjoy, were the visits, which could be long weekends, or extended visits during holiday or Summer breaks. With each of their visits, it was often like we were never apart. The routines of making meals, doing laundry, taking them places, and just having fun, were no different than when they were younger and when we all lived with each other. But, when it was time for them to go back home, upon me returning home, alone, is when it hit me.

(photo courtesy of statecollege.com)

Silence. Total and complete silence. No one to cook anything for. The televisions was not on. No one was asking me for anything. There was no one to see or look at. It was quiet. It was empty. Then it hit me, I was dealing with something I had not heard since my psychology classes in high school and college, “empty nest.” The analogy does not get any simpler than that, baby birds hatch, grow, and then fly away from the nest, leaving it empty. While my “birds” were not flying away forever after each of the custody visits, the feeling was the same.

Yesterday’s emotions felt differently however. I know they did. Sure, my “baby birds” would return to the nest for other visits, but now, as they enter their sophomore and junior years of college, I can see things are different, much different. And I could not be happier for them, because this is the moment that I wanted for them, to take the things that they learned from me, and forge their own paths, create their own futures, make their own lives. With their early years of college life finished, they now have experienced the one of the final things they needed to do, feel their independence, learning to not only make their own decisions, but take into consideration the rewards and the consequences of those decisions. Both have taken major opportunities already, bold decisions that I never imagined so soon, proving to me and to those that know my daughters, that my daughters have bright futures ahead of them.

But knowing how strong and independent my daughters are, did not make my return back to the house, alone, any easier. It was quiet. Dark. No activity. The television was not on. No one was in the kitchen enjoying a snack. The laundry basket was not filled. Empty, the “nest” was empty. However now, it felt like the empty birds nest. My daughters schedules this year, and from here on out, are labor intensive, socially demanding, and then, still to be taken into consideration, time off to still be split between their mother and I. They will also want to spend time with their friends, and possibly, no, likely, significant others of their own.

I think what makes it especially harder for me now, and anyone who knows me knows this about me, my daughters are my world. As I faced that heart surgery back in 2008, the fear I might never see them again, combined with my complicated health as a long term cancer survivor, and a tense ten-year custody arrangement which is now ended, I find it anti-climactic that all the motivation and goals are behind me, leaving me to focus solely on the health issues that may lay ahead of me. I need to fight this feeling, because there is still so much that I want to experience with my daughters, their college graduations, weddings if they choose, and their children if they are so blessed.

(photo courtesy of Wild Things Food)

Living in Florida, I see nature and the circle of living every day. In the back yard, I have seen three baby deer over the last four years. I get to watch everyone grow, hanging around their parents, and then one day, they are on their own. And then the next generation begins. I guess that is where I am at right now. My daughters are into the next phase of their life, and will do great things, for which I am so happy and hopeful for. I do not know if the offspring of wildlife run into their parents anymore once they leave, but I know, as a human, I am definitely planning on it. Our visits will be shorter in duration, and who knows if the time will be enough to fit everything in. I do know, it will never be enough, ever again.