Change is a comin'.

 You know what we haven’t had in a while? A good cry, I’ve been keeping them to myself and it feels like time to share them. It’s good for us, right? Go get some Kleenex because at some point while reading this – you are going to want one.

We have some major life transitions happening soon in our little family of three. And to add salt to the transition wound, I have no choice but to accept that my parents are aging as fast as my children – which is completely unfair.

In my entire life, I’ve never been alone. I lived at home, then with Scott, then with Scott and our children, then with just our children. Never just with me. When Covid hit, without making it public at the time Scott, Jen, and I agreed that Parker and A would stay solely with me. We wouldn’t leave and we didn’t. We isolated ourselves so tightly in a bubble only letting people in through video calls at first, then outside visits, and eventually returning to our post covid routine. But those first 6 months, it was just the three of us, with the full knowledge that if I messed up, all three of our lives were on the line. Nothing throws you into compliance like the words “this will kill your child.”

It was a while longer before we started overnight visits with their dad, again. When we did, the kids being away had become much harder on me. I solved that by spending that time, as often as I could, with my parents.

Then, Willow had her leg injury, which stopped those trips as she wasn’t (and still isn’t) ready to run without further causing injury - post-surgery now. It was around the time of Willow’s surgery that A’s first college acceptance letter came. One followed by another… and another… and another. All four schools that A applied to for all 5 BA programs accepted A and made offers. It was an incredibly exciting time, as long as A was there to share their excitement with me.

But, when they’d leave to go to their dad’s, it would hit me. My youngest, my baby, will be moving across the ocean to another country. And it hit hard. A and I have always been incredibly close and there was no way I was going to stop A from chasing this dream and moving to a place where I know they will thrive, not even my shattering heart would get me to stop supporting this dream of theirs.

Every emotion hits when I let my mind go there. While the responsibility of raising Parker is mine, the quiet one on one time with A at the end of each day when they finally come out of their room is a time I cherish. It is my time to regroup. To laugh, to talk about current events, to share dreams, and frustrations, and, of course, for me to glance over A’s homework once in a while to reassure them that what they’ve written was as good as they hoped. It always is. A has an amazing gift for writing, especially poetry.  A is there when I need an extra hand and truly gets me through each day.

I cannot remember the last time I saw A this excited about something. I’m not worried, I know this is where A is meant to be. I know they will get to truly be themself, spread their wings, and fly – and, make this world a better place. I have every confidence this is the right move for A, even though I wish they just wanted to stay with me forever 😊

I’ve been mentally preparing myself for A’s departure. For every reason I am sad, I can give you more reasons why I am happy, including that it means I get to spend more time in the UK and Europe, too! Traveling is so good for my soul. As much as it will be hard on me not to have A here, I can talk with A pretty much anytime. I can even call daily, even though I doubt that they would answer me that often! So I’ve been settling into the reality that A has this amazing adventure coming soon and I am filled, again, with excitement for them.

Then, the other night, while tucking Parker into bed I reminded him that he is old enough to tuck his own covers in, especially his feet which he uncovers repeatedly throughout the night. I said, “it’s time for you to do this. You are 23.” He quickly interrupted me with “No, I’m 24.” I was like, “Wait, what? No! I am sure you are 23!” He argued with me until I gave up and left. I came upstairs where A and I were double-checking our math to be sure he was actually 23 right now like I thought. 

The sheer panic that hit me that he may have been 24 with his 25^th birthday coming a year before I planned in my head took all of the wind from me. I am not ready, I can’t be ready in just a couple of months, there is so much to do. So, when we confirmed that *I* was right and he is only 23 still, I breathed a sigh of relief knowing my plan was still on track.

While my main focus is currently on A, scholarships, financial aid, student visas, and everything that comes with studying abroad internationally – the back of my mind keeps returning to … “7 months after A leaves for the UK, I’ll be starting the transition of moving me out of this house and moving roommates in.” And while I’ve been taking the “I’ll figure out where I’ll live when the time comes” approach, I knew I needed to start figuring out those options as everything takes time – and I need to prepare Parker for that as much as his roommates coming in.

As I started talking more about Parker living independently (with roommates and caretakers), I mentioned to my mom that I knew I’d have to give him a week or so to settle in before I came to visit. My mom quickly said, “Two weeks.” When she worked as a nurse for a CILA, they recommended two weeks. That was completely fine during the conversation. I would wait two weeks and then I would come to visit him weekly thereafter.

I was fine. I was slightly panicking but, was fine. I was so fine that I left my best friend a 20-minute voice message at 2 (or 3?) a.m. expressing all of my fears through my sobbing tears.

One of those fears is, “What will happen to me?” How do I do this? How do I survive this?

Parents become “empty nesters” all of the time. Some parents even look forward to it. Those parents are not still tucking their 23-year-old into bed every night. They are not giving them a goodnight kiss on the cheek, turning off the light, and waiting for that little voice to say “I love you.” before leaving the room knowing you’ll be back at least 3 more times to adjust covers before you, yourself go to bed and then on really good nights – you get to sleep all the way through but more realistically you are up at least once to put the covers back on the bed. Those parents are not still assisting their adult child in the bathroom, helping with self-care skills, being sure all of the shampoo is out of their hair and those stinky armpits are washed during showers. They are most likely not still financially responsible for every meal, piece of clothing, toy, or activity their 23-year-old is doing. They are not still helping put on socks or having “seat belt races” when you get into the car. If their adult child is living at home, odds are the child is able to help with chores, and not everything falls on the one single parent. Those people are possibly annoyed that their kid is out partying, staying out all night, working, or doing other things that I have no concept of because our life doesn’t work that way. It never has.

Most parents aren’t giving up their home to make it a safe home for their child and others to live and be cared for while finding a new living situation for themselves.

It is the 24/7 caregiving for over 23 years that makes letting go even harder. When I tucked Parker into bed last night after he had spent 2 nights at his dad’s house, I said, “I get to give you two extra kisses tonight! One for each night you were away!” Much to his giggling protest, he let me give him 3 kisses on the cheek before wiping them off and telling me he hates kisses.

That was the moment it hit me. When we make this move, I won’t be tucking him into bed anymore – except when he visits me. There will be no more nighttime routine, no more nighttime kisses on the cheek, no more waiting for that sweet voice to say “I love you.” back to me. There will be no making up kisses for nights we were apart, no re-covering of his feet, no more of him farting to try to get me to leave his room faster. No more yelling for a drink when he is done watching COPS, no more final tuck-in before drifting off to sleep, no more yelling for mom in the middle of the night, or first thing in the morning when he needs help in the bathroom.

It will be silent. No one will be waiting for me to tuck them into bed and kiss them on the cheek goodnight.

No one will spend their day yelling at me, which – at the moment – is Parker’s favorite thing to do. No one else will be holding my phone, telling me where my keys are, or making me match up our schedules with what is on TV at the same time. No more making daily lists of what we will be doing from the time we wake up until the time we go back to sleep. It will all fall on someone else soon.

This brings me to the other point I brought up with Melissa… how will I survive this? How do I go from the 24/7 caretaker to one kid being in the UK and the other living with friends while I adjust to a new space? How am I, the person who struggles with anxiety and depression going to cope?  How am I going to handle the deafening silence that replaces the constant noise of today? I know I am not alone in worrying about how all of this will impact my mental health and how I will make it through. How do I decide where to go next? And how do I know what the right answer is?

Melissa replied with a 12-minute voice message with reassurance and advice only a best friend can give to calm your soul like M does mine. But perhaps the most important thing she said to me was that “we need to give up on the idea that there is a “right” answer to things and accept that “right” answer may not even exist.” And, as always, she is correct.

I’m not the first person who has raised a child with an intellectual disability and then transitioned them to different living arrangements. It happens all of the time, every single day. What I’ve seen and learned from others who have gone before me and most likely the reason I am forcing myself to stay on this timeline, is because their kids have thrived in the new settings. I have absolute faith that Parker will thrive in this new setting, as will his housemates. Who wouldn’t want to live with their best friends? It’s a pretty nice setup!

It’s the impact on the parents that is rarely talked about. Especially when it comes to single parents who have been the primary caretaker. I am sure we will need to increase my medications drastically – to the level of a horse tranquilizer to get me through each day until I can become at peace with the new lives we are living. Unlike A, I can’t call Parker whenever. I can but the conversation will be extremely limited – which is why this house is fully equipped with cameras and I don’t feel the need to do that to A’s dorm 😊 I know I can check on him anytime. And I will only allow people I trust with my life to be caretakers with him. But, it will be the biggest change I’ve made in my life.

The options I’m considering for myself are reflective of many things, and my mental health is top of that list. I don’t do well with putting myself first and I don’t intend to immediately after moving. I was meant to take care of others and I will need to continue to do so to make this transition, even if for the short term until I can see that I’ll be ok with the quiet.

And, I’ll do my best not to add to my domesticated zoo for company for a few years while I am at it.

This next year and a half are going to be challenging for me. I’m incredibly thankful for a job that I love that can distract me and offer plenty to keep me busy and occupied. I’m thankful for family and friends who are happy to be in my company, mostly… usually, anyway. And I’m going to need them.

For the first time, I’m going to likely need more support than I am able to give as I learn to live with an empty nest, putting one foot in front of the other to get through each day. I will lie through my teeth each time someone asks how I’m doing as I say “I’m good/fine/or ok” and hope that I can quickly exit the conversation before I start to cry. I will likely seclude myself for a bit while I figure out who I am when I am not Parker and A’s mom 24/7 and figure out who Holly really is on her own.

I’ll figure it out. I’ll find the Holly that is hiding behind the mom/caretaker façade and she will be amazing, too. And I’m pretty sure that she will spend a lot of time writing and traveling, often found in Italy enjoying gelato and the best pizza in the world when she isn’t busy at work.

Part of me never thought we would make it here. Yet here we are and part of me has realized this is something I’ll never truly be ready for but understand the importance of doing it. It is what is best for Parker, just like going to the UK is best for A. And as a parent, doing what is best for my kids has always been the priority. In doing that, I’ve raised two pretty amazing young adults that I am incredibly proud of.

Now, if someone could please tell my parents to stop aging because I am not ok with that at all and it is a whole additional layer of grief that I am struggling through.

Sometimes it seems like everything in life happens all at once – that is where I am.

My parents are aging.
My children are growing up.

Somewhere in the middle, I guess I should accept that I am aging, too.

It just all happened so fast.

As sure as I am that I am not ready, I can’t think of a lot in life that I have ever actually been ready for. I’ll do my best to do as I always have and lay a new path where there hasn’t been one before, hope that it intersects with other paths that have been well worn before I reached them that I’m able to regroup and learn from, and looking for beautiful inchstones along the way.

A new journey awaits… and it is coming soon.