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Cry Me A River
Justin Timberlake or Ella Fitzgerald. Either way, this is the crying year, the year of lasts. This time next year, my husband and I will be empty nesters. Daily as my son leaves for school, I cry. Just the mere thought of coming home and not seeing him at some point during the day convulses me. How do I cope? Obviously, I’m not (or I wouldn’t be writing this blog). Luckily, my group Pilates classes include some soon to be empty nesters with whom I slyly reveal my sadness amidst my ebullient surface. Welling up is typical. Whether I am watching a toddler stagger around while washing my car or staring as a mother tries to corral her brood at Target, for the first time in my life, I feel depressed.
I catch myself nurturing my toy poodle puppy, Harvey, like I did my children. Do I dress him as a pumpkin or bat for Halloween? Which embroidered stocking does he want for Christmas (Pottery Barn Kids [potterybarnkids.com] has the best)? How many toys is too many? Should I rotate them so he doesn’t get bored? Is he spending enough time outside? Is he eating enough? You get the idea. Pathetic. Crazy. I am both.
When my daughter left for college four years ago, the house lost its vitality and drama. I shut her door and cried; but, I still had her brother to replenish my spirit. Now, I am lost. The anticipation of sending another bright and talented child into the world is scary. As many mothers experience, you lose your identity in your children. Now, my job is to redefine. Filling the void and refining my person sounds the call of creativity. THIS I can control.
Pilates and Dance. As I meander through my personal therapy session, here is the essence. Pilates and dance intertwine, both creatively and physically. Channeling my grief and confusion into a stronger body and a more creative spirit might impact my mental stability. Imagine. Mind/Body/Soul. This time next year, life could be renewed, fulfilled, and complete. My new Pilates advertisement campaign just wrote itself. Crying really is cathartic.
Sandi
