Why a Target Ad Made Me Sad

Last night my husband and I were watching TV. A Target commercial came on and I felt myself wanting to tear up. What? It was a really cute back to school ad, with happy kids and parents buying colored pencils, notebooks, and backpacks.

It hit me. I don’t have any more “Back to Schools.” Mackenzie graduated college three years ago and has been living and working in the city. Talee graduated college this past June and works at a “big girl job,” as she calls it.

No more school days.

Even when the girls were in college, and we no longer did the traditional K-12 back to school shopping, I still had a back-to-school-time-of-year. Shopping for their dorms or houses, getting them some clothes and makeup, and maybe a notebook or two.

Mackenzie, Talee, and I have great memories of back to school shopping. The girls have often told me that their favorite part — more than buying new outfits — was going to Target or an office store to get their supplies. There’s something about clean, fresh paper, sharp pencils, clean erasers, and folders that don’t have anything written on them yet.

A fresh start.

Last September when Talee started her senior year of college, I’m surprised I didn’t think about it being my very last back to school year. Not that I would’ve done anything differently, it just didn’t cross my mind. And it’s important to me. One of those things you think will always be there.

This fall Talee will be moving out to be closer to work. It’ll be fun to shop with her for plates, silverware, pots and pans, and towels. I guess that’ll be my version of back to school.

My husband and I will become empty nesters again, and that’s bittersweet. I’m proud to watch my daughters become independent and grow in their careers and adult lives. But I miss their younger days. I miss driving them to school, picking them up, making lunches, and helping with homework.

Those days are gone and that’s sad to me. But I’m thankful I treasured those moments and cherish those memories. A new season is about to start and we have to move on.

A new beginning.

Maybe the next time Mackenzie and Talee are home together, we’ll go to Target or the office store and get some new pens, sticky notes, and journals. They’ll never be too old for that. Neither will I.

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Bliss

That feeling of pure joy. Pure contentment. I’m grateful to say I’ve felt that this weekend.

My youngest daughter, Talee, is away for the summer studying abroad. My older daughter, Mackenzie, lives about an hour away from home. She’s a business woman, and extremely busy with her job and independent life.

I’ve adjusted to being an empty nester. But I desperately miss my sweet girls!

Mackenzie has been super stressed working on a job promotion, so she wanted to have a “chill” weekend with my husband and me. We were more than happy to welcome her home. I savored our long, leisurely meals, talking and laughing for hours. We had a great time shopping for dishes and decorative pieces for her new apartment, and of course, for clothes and shoes. Mackenzie and I cooked together and cuddled in bed watching TV. I treasured every minute.

We reconnected.

As my daughters are getting older, reconnecting is more important than ever. Sometimes I feel as if we’re growing apart. I want to give them space. They need to discover things about themselves without me. But I still want to feel needed, and be an active part of their lives. I love to hear about their jobs, their courses at school, and their friends. I want to be kept in the loop.

I’m thankful that I am. My girls tell me stories about their adventures and still seek my opinions and advice. It warms my heart that Mackenzie and Talee genuinely enjoy spending time with me, as I do with them.

Our lives are so hectic and it’s difficult to spend quality time with each other. But we need to, and we must. It feels good to slow down. Not only that, it’s healthy.

To recharge and reconnect.

I’m going outside now, and plop on a lounge chair next to Mackenzie.

Pure bliss.

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When the Kids Fly Away

It’s that time of year. Several of my friend’s youngest children are graduating from high school this week. I was in their place two years ago, when Talee, my youngest, wore a black cap and gown, walked to “Pomp and Circumstance,” and received her diploma.

I was so happy and proud. I was excited for her, as she’d head off to college in the fall for a brand new adventure. An amazing life was ahead, and I couldn’t wait to watch her mature, change, and grow.

But wait. She’s moving away from home. I don’t get to see her beautiful face everyday, and hear her stories at dinner.

Bittersweet.

I arrived at the period in life I’d been dreading — the empty nest. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. I didn’t want a professional career, I wanted to stay home with my babies. I was fortunate I was able to do just that.

I took care of my little ones and shared the wonders of the world with them. We went to Mommy and Me classes, and I watched them learn to swim at the community pool. I volunteered at the elementary school every week and never missed a field trip. I was team mom for soccer and basketball, and baked brownies for school parties. I loved cooking for my family and having my daughters’ friends over. I thrived in a household bustling with children and laughter.

All that was about to change. I was filled with anxiety, sadness, and loss. I mourned that time in life that I could never, ever get back.

Mackenzie left for college three years before Talee. That was a difficult adjustment for all of us. But I still had one child at home. Now there would be none.

That summer after graduation we prepared for Talee to live at her new “home away from home.” We shopped for everything she’d possibly need in the dorm room and printed out dozens of photos of family and friends for her to display. She talked and sent hundreds of texts to her two new roommates and imagined how it would be living in tight quarters with the other girls. Talee couldn’t wait to meet them in person.

I was caught up in her excitement, and realized I needed to enjoy that time. It was happening, whether I wanted it to or not. My dad told me, “They’re going to grow up. You can’t stop them.” No, I can’t.

So I moved on, just as Talee did. We had to. Change is inevitable.

Talee and Mackenzie are flourishing in their independent lives. I’ve adjusted to my role as empty nester.

But I still have days when I long for that time when my girls were little and we jumped in puddles in the rain.

Bittersweet.

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Second image courtesy of medicinenet.com