What’s a Moon Mom?
I’m not an “empty-nester.” Yes, my three adult children are all in college, but the last thing I want to feel is “empty.” And I certainly don’t feel empty.
Now, that’s not to say that this isn’t hard. Even when I am so incredibly happy and excited for them and proud of them. I still miss them terribly. I’m grieving, but I’m not empty.
It is possible to feel happy for them, and sad at the same time.
But I’m not empty. My house is not empty. My life is not empty.
It does help when our daughter texts to say she had a great first day of classes. It does help when our other daughter texts to say she arrived safely, after driving herself back to college for the first time. It does help when our son promises he’ll call tonight after his first “floor meeting”, meeting his RA, HA, and other freshmen in his dorm. We’re still connected. We’re just not together.
Why do we call it the “empty nest?” I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing parents want to feel when their children leave home. Empty.
I’m not “empty,” but that doesn’t mean it’s not a tough transition. That doesn’t mean I’m not grieving.
There are many different kinds of grief. The kind of grief that parents experience when children leave the home is a type of “ambiguous grief.” It’s grieving the presence of someone who’s still alive.
It’s also a kind of “disenfranchised grief.” This is a type of grief that is not publicly supported, or is minimized in some way by society, family and friends, and even by the griever. It can be minimized because children leaving home and heading off to college, employment, or the military is considered healthy and positive. We’re not “supposed” to grieve when things are positive, or developmentally appropriate. We’re not given space or permission to grieve.
Our society is not so great at grieving and supporting those who are grieving. We want ignore it. We’re uncomfortable with it. Rather than holding space for someone’s grief and allowing them to feel, the tendency is to try to make people who are grieving “feel better.”
But there’s only one way through grief, and that is to grieve. And grieving involves feeling.
When a child leaves home, it can be particularly difficult for those who have experienced the death of a family member/loved one. It brings past grief to the surface. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t healed. But it can feel intense and take you by surprise when you’re saying good-bye to an adult child and feeling a rise in grief regarding the loss of someone in your past.
When someone is grieving, including the loss experienced when an adult child leaves the home, being told that the home is now an “empty” nest is not helpful.
I’m not an empty-nester. My 3 adult children have left for college, but my home is not empty. Instead, I’m a Moon Mom. My children may not have needed me yesterday when I went on this beautiful healing bike ride at Loantaka Brook Reservation, but I am always there for them. Like the moon, I’m always there.
I decided to form Moon Moms two years ago to help mothers during this transition. I came up with the term “Moon Mom” after reading this poignant poem.
“My role is no longer to be their sun. My job is to be their moon, connected by a force so strong, it will never break. I will follow along, providing light at the darkest moments, directions when needed. Sometimes my presence is large and looming, and sometimes it is small, barely seen by the naked eye. But I am always there.” -Author unknown.
If you’re grieving and need support, I’m here for you. If you’re interested in finding ways so that your home is not “empty,” I’m here for you.
Join the Moon Moms group for support, resources, education, and connection. We’ll be meeting weekly for 4 weeks via Zoom on Tuesdays at 7:30pm (ET) starting on 9/19/23.
To register, click HERE
(Individual support is also available)
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