
Niles asked for a “whizzer stick” this year (my own bastardizational term for an immersion blender) but in the few days since Christmas (which feel like as many years) I have felt as though someone has lowered one into my emotional core. I don’t know if I am the only one who needs to just sit and stare at the wall after Christmas but after ten solid days of cooking, cleaning, fretting and trying to pretend I don’t feel like hiding in a closet with some (decent) gin, my tranquility resources are, (in keeping with the season) in the red.
I remember being shocked when I asked a friend how she was feeling about her eldest child moving out. She smiled and confided wearily: “It’s time. For all of us.” At that stage in my own life, both of my boys were still young enough to insist on curling around me as we all watched a movie together like a small tribe of monkeys. I literally could not envision them leaving home without welling up and feeling physically empty and panic stricken. I would feel as though I had swallowed a stone. But I now know that nature has a way of clearing that up quite nicely. And it looks like this: