I expected to wake cranky this morning, and I suppose I am (my youngest didn’t get home until midnight & my mother is 18 years dead), but my first thought/feeling/sensation was santosha/satisfaction/sweetness–for a job well done.
This is my last mother’s day with a child at home.
I first felt the pang of the empty nest in the shower on the morning after my oldest was born.
A month later, I began writing about this messed up love story, and years later, after both boys were in school, I began this very blog in an effort to get a jump start on the sucky ending ahead.
But that was a mistake. If I were to start name this blog now, I’d call it something else.
The Spacious Nest.