"Several years ago, when the last of my daughters graduated from college, loaded her 'how-can-she-possibly-carry-that!' backpack, hugged me tight, and boarded a plane for South America with a one-way ticket, I felt a hole in my stomach the size of a meteor crash pit. I knew so many things at that moment. I knew I had a world of worry ahead of me that would last the duration of her adventure-with-no-end-date."
"For years, my married-with-children life had been a whirlwind of stereotypical womanhood: mothering, managing, and multitasking. The house hummed with commotion, packing lunches, planning dinners, visiting teenagers' shoes haphazardly piled near the front door, family events, lively conversations, and belly laughs-oh, and at a certain point, some derailing by hormone gyrations. And now? Just me, my omnipresent ADHD-fueled piles of stuff, and a fridge that I wished someone else would clean and organize."
On January 16, 2001 a spouse's ski accident altered family life and eventually led to divorce and living alone. Years later the last daughter left for South America with a one-way ticket, creating a deep sense of emptiness and sustained worry. Daily routines shifted from a busy household—mothering, managing, multitasking, and lively family interactions—to solitude, scattered ADHD-fueled clutter, and mundane tasks like maintaining an unorganized fridge. Career intensity receded and produced regret. The calendar now holds more personal time than social engagements, while routine medical appointments have become more frequent compared with earlier life.
Read at Tiny Buddha
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