| Life 'n Times In Cowboy Country
|
|---|
by Diane Tribitt ~ Hillman, Minnesota
Senior Executive Editor
I.M. Cowgirl Magazine |
|---|
The "Empty Nest" Syndrome
Growing up, I laughed in the face of fear! I thought I was darn
tough, for a girl, but when
I got nervous or scared, uncontrollable urges to laugh consumed me! There was one
exception, and it involved my mother. When mom sat on the edge of my bed, softly stating
how disappointed she was in me, for whatever it was that I had done wrong, I would cry
like a baby. She never raised a hand, never yelled, but her reprimands were unbearable. I
often wondered how she managed to do that.
By age 25, I knew. My son was five years old and I was learning fast! Fifteen years and
four
children later I had a clear understanding of love, discipline and parenting, as well as a new
respect for my mother. I had four children to her eight! It surprised me to discover how much
I had learned from her over the years as I managed to muddle
through motherhood. My
youngest is now seventeen, so next year I will penetrate the barriers of what some people call
the "empty-nest-syndrome".
After visiting with women whose children had moved out, I was amazed at how busy they all
were. I could not believe it! With no children to occupy their time, no games or extracurricular
activities or meetings to go to, how could they be busy? This is the devastating ending to a
whole phase of your life. Raising a family is an emotional consumption, and then suddenly the
kids are gone. These women should have all the time in the world, now! They should be living
a life of peace, quiet and leisure!
This subject was so confusing for me. I raise cattle, and when they get big, I ship them out.
It seems so cold comparing that to raising children, but I know that all too soon, my home
corral will be empty and I will go through the weaning process. This bothers me. I pondered
on this as I sat in Perkins, silently picking at my salad. Three elderly women
sat at a table
next to me. All three had silver-white hair, and each of them sported a
fresh manicure. Girl's
day out, I thought, grinning. I could not help but overhear
their conversation, though. "Lady A"
was discussing the problems she was having with her neck. She could not turn her head to the
right or to the left, because of arthritis. "Lady B" kept asking her to repeat everything she said,
as she forgot to get batteries for her hearing aide. "Lady C" had cataracts in both eyes and
faced surgery the following week.
We left at the same time. I watched in amazement as each woman produced her own sets of
car keys before parting ways. I stood there, frozen, realizing that all three of them would be
driving on the same road as me. One could not see, one could not turn her head, and one
could not hear. I prayed they were all traveling in a different direction
than I was. Suddenly,
it dawned on me. I quickly gauged the difference between my age and theirs
to be about thirty
years. It was crystal-clear in my mind by now. As I
had dedicated the past thirty years to
raising my children, I only have thirty more to dedicate to me
(the Good Lord willing!), to do
everything I had put off doing. I wondered
what my own mother was doing right now. She
was always busy! I turned the truck towards mom and dad's, eager to tell her that I finally
figured it out, and to wish her a Happy
Mother's Day. However, I couldn't stay long. I have
so much to do, yet, so much to do.
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
~William Shakespeare ~