Empty Nest

 A little while ago my wife and I dropped our daughter off at University for the start of her 3 year course.  Her Uni is some 300 miles away - 6 hours in the car (with rest breaks).

We unloaded her possessions from our cars and hoped to help her unpack and get settled - but she didn't want our help, or much of our company - as she had already made friends with some of the other students on her course and wanted to spend time with them.

So my wife and I felt unwanted, surplus to requirements, and a bit rejected.  We tried to hang on, see our daughter a bit more before we had to leave her there and travel home - but that just didn't seem to work.  And so we drove home after a tearful farewell - with promises to call every day.

The first thing to hit was the absence of her car on the drive.  Then seeing the few things she left behind in her now vacant room.  And every where we looked there was a reminder that she's not here anymore, and most likely will never live with us again.

Oh I'm sure she'll visit - Christmas maybe - but her life is up there now, and her degree is based around work placement at her favourite theme park and so she'll probably be working there in the holidays too.

The pain we feel is akin to grief.  A subtle form of mourning is going on, with us afraid sometimes to speak about her for fear of the tears welling up again, and the chest feeling tight with emotion.

Everyone says that it's good that she's so settled already, that she's independent and confident enough to be there on her own, that we should be proud of the daughter we raised that's capable of looking after herself.  And we know all that - but it still hurts!

It's only been a few days, and her course hasn't started yet so she's not busy with her studies - but even though she has time on her hands, we barely get any communication from her.  God knows how sparse it'll be once she gets coursework and placements to do!

I miss her like mad.  I never knew it would hurt this much.  And it feels like I'll never see her again.  But when I do - is it going to hurt like this all over again?  

UPDATE:
It's now a week on from writing the post and I have to say things are much better now.  We still miss her like crazy - but it's no longer heartbreakingly painful.  That feeling of never seeing her again has subsided too.  We know she's ok, and we know she's happy.  My wife and I have started making plans what we might fill our time with, getting out more - and we're eating the evening meals we stopped preparing because our daughter didn't like them.

Peace and Tranquility

 Since my last post I have been mostly hibernating!
This last Winter was wild, wet and windy down here in Cornwall, and I've found myself hiding indoors a lot.  I love to listen to the wind howling around the house, and the rain lashing against the windows while I'm all snuggled up warm and safe inside.

I love Winter, but this last one has had an unusual effect on my psyche - I've succumbed to the constant rain and storms, and I've looked forward to the Spring - which I have to say felt like a long time getting here.  

I spent a lot of my time indoors writing my journal and reading about a simpler life of less consumerism and more grow-your-own.  And also reflecting on how little socialising we did last year - too few barbecues with friends and family, hardly any firepit gatherings.  And so we resolved to change that this year.

It's now almost the end of May, and just over half way through Spring - and already we have had a few social gatherings, barbecues and at least two firepits to sit around.  The sun shines longer into the afternoon and evening which seems to fill the soul with warmth, love and hope for better times.

We've planted tomatoes and peas, kale and courgettes (not loads, but enough for us) and for once our pear tree looks like it might bear fruit.  (Our apple tree did OK last year, but we didn't eat a single one!)

This year I'm hoping to brew some mead, and see if the homebrew red wine kit I was given a couple of years ago will still produce something drinkable.

Our solar panels and battery banks are already saving us money, we are actively reducing the amount of water we use, and are well on top of the home maintenance jobs that keep our home clean, tidy and in good repair.

All in all we are healthy and happy, and with that comes a sense of peace, tranquility and wellbeing.

It hasn't taken much to achieve this - a shift in perspective, a realisation of what's important and what's just mental clutter.  Prioritising our needs to encompass the outdoors into the equation so we have fresh air, sunlight, and birdsong to lift our spirits.

I think this year is going to feel far more alive than last year, and for that I am extremely grateful!