Going to Seed… and the semi-empty nest

More than a year ago, I did my first blog…. And thought I would document the process of getting older, going “through the change” and all that. Well, here I am, blogging again. Maybe I can keep up some sort of running commentary. Lots had happened and I plan to do a few of my blogs, hopefully recalling the events.

There has been a confluence of events over a few short months which has made an impact on me. Maybe it is because I am in that phase of life…

It was my eldest child’s birthday yesterday. 26 years old. And not only was it his birthday, but he always moved out of the parents’ home, into a place of his own together with his woman. It was time, and as with all things, life goes on and as we finish the one chapter of a book, a new is started (unless, it is “Finis”).

Taking a step back, about 4 months ago, my eldest daughter embarked on an adventure: living and working in China and left her spot empty. After she had left, I did a clean-up and storage in some totes of all the goodies in her room, moved some furniture around, got rid of a desk that was a thorn in my side for a long time.

At during this time of change, within the past week, my father has been moved to a retirement home. And we know that it is where he will be until it is time to pass on. With my mother already passed on 5 years ago, it is a realization that my siblings and I are now on the front lines.

There is also…  emptiness.

My son’s room, which was always a seriously messy place, was packed up, and I dusted, vacuumed and discarded whatever was still lying around after they had gone. It’s just sitting there, all austere. My daughter’s room is a quiet spot, seemingly waiting.

It’s strange, neither of the children made lots of noise, or even interacted with me intensively on a daily basis, but there was interaction, with each other, with me, my husband and of course the youngest one still in the house. And there is a knowledge of presence. My youngest also remarks that even though many days we passed like ships in the night, it is that knowledge that someone is living there.

I know it’s time for a new era in my life, the same as it is for them. It brings new freedoms, I believe. All of a sudden, I have to take care not to purchase too much food, and stop myself thinking about making sure that there is enough food for 6 and now only for 3.

Yet, there is a sadness and an emptiness and I am sure these are natural phases. Finding ways of expanding my narrow existence may be a challenge. Introvert “to the max”, work from home, hate social events, being an immigrant, my life revolved a lot around kids and family.

Winter in a snowy country, where the sun sets early now, at 5pm is was already dark tonight.

Maybe blogging can take up some of it. And I still have one last "chick" left. Maybe the two of us can get up to mischief before the opportunity passes...

"change of life"

Ageing never held any fear for me. There was never anything about being grey and getting wrinkles that scared me. 

Here's the thing: lately, I am not so sure: 

I am middle-aged, late forties. Okay, I am 48 and rapidly approaching 49. Through the years, I have managed, through fucking hard work, to at least keep fit, mostly healthy, most of the time maintaining an OK weight. I should feel good and be enjoying life…, but yet, here I am, belly-aching.

Going through the process holds some of its own charms, or maybe they can be called non-charms. Funny things start happening, some are indeed funny -“Ha-ha” and others are more funny-"peculiar".

The fun of “peri-menopause” - a fancy word for some undignified, some funny and some strange shit that happens to a woman whose eggs are singing their farewell song, while her oestrogen is raging its last storm before it is all supposed to settle in years of calm.

Here are a few choice developments:

My neck skin is slowly getting saggy… maybe I will also arrive at the point - in the words of Austin Powers’ Fat-Bastard - when it is looking like a vagina.

The corners of my mouth make me look permanently disapproving. One day, I spotted a sour looking old bitch in the shop window at the mall, and was about to wonder about her, when I realized it is none other than myself. My daughters call it the “resting bitch face”.  I have über “resting bitch face”.

My eyebrows have long since mostly said goodbye and the long eyelashes I had, have now disappeared. Throw in the periods from hell and the iron deficiency and now the consequent hair-loss. Is that dignified?

Lately I have been all ‘funned’ out by the hot flashes, the bad sleep, and water retention, being as weak as a baby in the gym. I mean, really?

I cannot really put a time and date to it, but for me it started somewhat before my 40^th birthday, I just didn't know it. It started with ….the unbearable night time-itching. I cannot count the number of allergy tests, blood tests, skin tests, you name it. All of it with no real results. Until I read somewhere that it is one of the lesser known things that start with the fancy “peri-menopause”.

My mom used to make comments about being middle-aged or ageing, like “When you start ageing, your eye lashes start falling out and you end up looking like a chicken” or, “Even your pubic hair starts getting sparse”. Or, “what has to be wet goes dry, and what has to be dry, is wet all the time”. You can put your own imagination or interpretation to that one. I didn't get it then.

She was a grand old lady, and I never realized what the “change of life” might have meant for her - until now. She died four years ago and I never got to share with her the knowledge I am accumulating rapidly. I miss her desperately, and would have loved to share, because she would have understood.