She’s Gone (cue Hall and Oates please)

I spend so much of my time deep in the world of Forty Weeks – all things pregnancy, female focused and important about the road to baby.  Maternity fashion, breast feeding, birthing options, nursery décor, stroller choices, diaper bags and  juvenile safety are the fodder of my days.  Yet, my last pregnancy ended eight years ago this week. My children (blended as we are) are 19, 14, 11 and 8 (July 1).   And here in my OT world things are quite different.

My two daughters have left for the highlight of their year – seven glorious weeks at camp Maine. Days spent on Echo and Sebago lakes (they are at separate camps) – filled with endless opportunities for independence, friendship and fun. We have been sending our girls to Maine for three generations in my family – it is what we do. I am so grateful that my girls get the opportunity to go off and grow like a sturdy Maine pine trees…and still I am sad.

My Facebook page is filled with the raw emptiness of my peers. All of us having sent our children off to camp for (up to) seven weeks – we are suddenly faced with a void they likes of which we never really are prepared to face (despite the fact that many of us do it year after year). Our homes are terribly quiet. There is no constant din of bickering or “mom-ing” – it is just still.

The first few days are just long – stretching out into an endless stream of hours.  These are stunningly silent hours without anyone to answer to. Hours watching your beloved waiting for the “buzz” of being along to kick in (summer romance is on the way) – but stuck for the moment on the loneliness of the empty house.  I would argue that the first day of camp is truly the longest day of the year…

I walked through my girls’ rooms. They are messy.  No they are vile and likely public health hazards. I could be angry – instead, I am sad. I went into their bathroom –it should be power washed and sanitized – still, I stood there long enough to take in the last lingering scent of their styling products and shaving creams.  I need to clean it. I can’t today.

The kitchen is quiet. The mud room stays clean all day long. There is no fight to referee. There is no one to assure me that they will absolutely empty their laundry basket before they leave the house. The girls are gone…off to have themselves some fun – free of the “real world” – nothing to worry about at all – just what the weather will be and how they will get in some extra time water skiing (Lila) or how they will land the lead in the play (Rebecca). What an amazing luxury, what good luck for them! And what a bitter sweet start to what will be a summer we will never forget….