this is my first spring off in 18 years and it feels weird.

First time, since my kids were born, that I don’t have extracurricular activities, either with my kids or my extras. And its so WEIRD. My life is being rebooted; kind of without my permission and I’ve got to figure it out.

People always told me: just wait until they’re graduated. You’ll miss this time. And a few days, I do. I miss waking up for those early fall ball games- thermos of coffee and its just cool enough for a sweatshirt in the morning and t-shirt in the afternoon. I miss the smell of a fresh baseball field early in the a.m. before the dust is stirred up, while the lines are still intact. I miss the dew on the grass before the first soccer game of the year, where I’m oh so careful to not get my shoes soaking wet. And the chair- carrying around a camp chair everywhere that I thought cars came with them. I miss all the activity around my house- it was a hub for all the boys and then its not. there are deep holes in my soul that I’m struggling to fill with books. So many books.

Right after David graduated from school- there was an enormous weight lifted off of me. It was the school involved parental stress. The PTA, the grades, the google classroom. It felt freeing and terrifying all at the same time. I spent much of last summer and the fall in disbelief- who am I? What’s my purpose? I’ve been momming so damn hard for years, and suddenly- that means something completely different.

Suddenly I find myself struggling with who I am and what my job is. Not in a physical sense- I still work for Heifer. My team does extraordinary things to help the mission. I love where i work and what I do.

my personal identity is in flux. Throw in a family death, a kid graduating from college, the last kid moving out and you have a pretty big pot of berit stew. What will I stress about if its not david’s clothes on the floor? We won’t still need pop tarts on hand- which have been in the same exact spot for 20 years.

So now its time to find berit and define myself again. I’ve spent 50 years dreaming of and trying to become the best mom ever; as usual, the jury is still deliberating, and it depends on what’s going on that  day as to what the verdict is. This ‘adult children’ stuff is for the birds- I do miss my babies. I have stories I need to write, books left to read, and libraries left to save. I just need to find my way out of the blue screen and back into the sunlight where its warm.

p.s. And before you all jump up and say- VOLUNTEERING, I HEAR YOU. Its just that I’m not in an emotionally stable place to do so and I refuse to jump into something where people count on me; because the causes I care so much about are already short-staffed.