All Grownup

I'm not sure I like being a grownup. There, I've said it. Sometimes I'm not prepared for the way it can hurt. I want to say right up front, this is not a guilt trip for anyone in my family, so please if you're reading this, don't take it that way.

When I was growing up a lot of bad things happened. I couldn't wait to move out of my house. I turned 18 in December and plotted and planned for a month ahead of time how I was going to move out of the house while my parents were at work. I secretly stored things in boxes in the basement in areas I knew they wouldn't notice. I sorted through and picked out the things I couldn't leave there without because I was sure I was never going back. Ever.

On my birthday, I pretended to go to school. I waited until I was sure my parents were gone then moved everything that was mine out of the house. I had already rented a small furnished apartment in the upstairs of an elderly woman's home and spent the day taking several loads of possessions to the new place. I had a Gremlin (those of you who know what that is, stop laughing) so it took several trips.

I delivered a letter to my dad's workplace telling him I'd left and letting him know so he could tell mom before she got home from work and found me gone. I didn't tell them where I went. They got it out of my boyfriend (someday-to-be-ex-husbands') parents. He and I were not living together, but had planned on being married as soon as possible. My father found me that night and asked me to wait to marry to give me, his only child, the wedding he always wanted to give me. What can I say? I was weak and gave in.

I'll skip some of the drama here – it's all over at "Dark Madness". At any rate, after getting married and a few years of marriage, I was broke, had two small children, some bruises – both internal and external –   and whatever was left of my pride was gone. I went to my parents to ask if the kids and I could stay with them for a little bit until I could get on my feet. The answer was no. That changed my life as far as the way I looked at parenthood. I swore, no matter what happened with my children as they grew I wanted them to always feel they could come home.

Through the years the kids have come and gone. Sometimes for a few days, sometimes for a few months. Lately, it has been a year. It doesn't feel like a year, but it has been. My youngest daughter who had married and moved out-of-state came home to divorce and re-group and renew her life. It is what I wanted to be here for. I wanted to be the net.

Now she's talking about moving out. She's been apartment hunting. She's found an apartment. Although we try to give her space and independence and we have a large house, I know she still feels as though she's 'living at home'. Yes, she's an adult and I do want her to go back out into the world. That's what we do – we raise them up and let them go. At least I know she's not moving out-of-state again (at least for the time being). We may be will be keeping her dog, as there aren't many decent apartments that allow pets. That won't be much of a stretch, as the dog has pretty much taken a shine to "grandpa". (Could it be the little nibbles of things he slips to her as he watches TV?)

Still and all… I don't know if I like this "grownup" business so much. I'm sure gonna miss her.

P.S. Check out her blog if you want to see how we spent Saturday night~~