Single Parent - Empty Nest: Memories in a Chili's Restaurant

I sat alone in my booth at Chili's the other night, watching the little family in the booth next to me with mixed emotions. A mom, a dad and a little blonde headed boy. He was two, maybe three years old, tops. The mommy shared crayons with the little bundle of mischief; coloring in the Chili, suggesting shades and demonstrating how to color within the lines - or not. Daddy smiled and offered suggestions from the children's menu until his baby made his choice.

Over the course of dinner, the family shared french fries and lemon aide and stories and giggles and smiles. The parents tried to keep him busy, tried to keep him quiet, tried to keep him focused on his meal and planted in his seat. But by the end of the meal, their little wiggle worm finally crawled beneath the table, through his parents' legs and into the aisle between us. Mama pulled him back, flashing me that familiar, somewhat embarrassed parents' grin. I returned a knowing, accepting and, unbeknownst to her, a somewhat jealous smile of my own. It wasn't hard at all for me to take the little boy's noise and wiggles. What was hard for me to take was that my own little blonde headed boy was not by my side. For I had just left the campus where I said goodbye to my child, releasing him to adulthood and independence and God's hands - for good.

The "empty nest" is hard for most all parents after years devoted to raising our children and the bond that comes from giving life to them, holding, nurturing and protecting them, nursing their hurts and their hearts and their minds and doing our best to direct them to this moment when they are ready to strike out into the world alone. Such commitment and attachment cannot be severed simply because they one day suddenly move away. While our young adult kids may have little if any memory of so much of their lives and while their focus has become all about them, their lives and friends and interests, the memories of every moment of that journey are so fresh for us, their parents, as we are adults through the whole process and their young lives have made up the better part of our life's purpose for all of those years.

I remember when my little family looked like the family across the aisle, when my husband was still with us and when we laughed and joked and shared food and colored together. I remember my little boy disappearing beneath the table and coming up on the other side; even sometimes, as he grew older, reporting back to us the number of wads of gum stuck beneath the table top!

Chili's became a favorite restaurant for us when he was just a little guy, too. My little boy and I started sharing one order of chicken fajitas - our favorite. We kept ordering that together into his teen years. Much cheaper that way, you know - Just one meal to pay for. We shared the sizzling chicken and veggies and asked for extra tortillas, cheese and condiments and for some reason they always let us get away with that, even after my child had grown much taller than me! I enjoyed my fajitas the other night, but I did miss the company of my son. And, of course, I ended up with left-over chicken.

We had eventually quit coloring as he grew up. But we didn't stop playing. After his father left, my son and I took to playing hang man and connect-the-dots on the back of the place mat. A single mom for the past 8 years since my son was only 11, I have many fond memories of our little games and rituals. Not only in restaurants, of course - Cuddling on the couch while we watched movies together, playing Rumicube, driving - everywhere. I loved - absolutely LOVED - all the sleep overs. From blanket forts all over the family room when he was younger to a house full of teenagers with their voices growing deeper all playing their loud and (forgive me) often awful (to me anyway) musical choices. I'll never forget the two New Years Eves in a row when our home became ground zero for the boys and their New Years celebrations. Half a dozen teenaged boys playing Rock Band all night long - in the family room directly below my bedroom! Unable to sleep with all the noise, I came down the stairs several times and just stood there secretly in the dark behind them, laughing my head off watching them play their little fake instruments. They didn't even know I was there, watching, savoring the moments and collecting the memories to keep for a lifetime. I wouldn't trade a single one of those memories for the sleep I lost. I wouldn't trade a minute of raising my son for anything in the world.

Not to say it was all bliss. On the contrary, ours has been a very difficult path. My baby's father not only left, he has spent the last seven years trying to destroy me in the process, and with no regard for the damage he was doing to our son. It has been one battle after another, trying to keep my child's life together and stable and safe and making sure he has always known that he is loved. There has been great hardship, yet great blessing in the middle of all of it. It's not that I'm not aware of the scars my son will now always bear. It's just that I also see the strength and the character he has gained as a result. And, too, being put in a position where it truly did become my son and me against the world, or at least that bad part of it, my child and I are all the closer.

So I could not be prouder of my little boy for the terrific young man he has become. He is well-equipped and ready to take this step from childhood to adulthood. I am very happy for him, and the great college he was admitted to. I am very excited for the bright future I see for him. But I will always remember the little blonde headed boy that colored with me and played hangman and shared my chicken fajitas. My now empty nest would, indeed, feel very, very empty - were it not for all the love and the laughter and the many precious memories I have hidden in my heart.