Alone, Lonely, or Independent? On Becoming a Cat Lady

Pop Quiz: It's Saturday night. I am sitting on the couch with my laptop and my cat. A load of laundry is spinning in the background.

Am I alone, lonely, or independent?

Answer: None of the above. I am simply becoming a Cat Lady.

Before I sound too dramatic, I will clarify that I have a husband and friends and family, But as of late, I am alone - a lot.

When my husband's not working, he's usually with me. Today he had a golfing date with his buddies, and I was happy for him. "Sure, go!" I said. I have errands to run, anyway.

{Insert Whitesnake song}

"Here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known;
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone."

Sigh...

I really do like myself and I really do appreciate "me" time. Yet I feel a little bit lonely.

As I walked into Walmart (part of my errands), I saw a woman with her older mom, shopping. I felt a pang in my heart as I thought of my mom, who passed away 2 years ago, She normally wouldn't have gone shopping with me, anyway. She was extremely independent and wanted to do things in her own way and in her own time frame. But suddenly I pictured us walking along, chit chatting, and I really, really missed her. After all, I haven't had a mommy at age 50 and I don't know what that would be like. I bet it would be nice.

While I was driving home, my daughter called me. I enjoy talking with my grown up baby girl who no longer lives at home. She worries about me. I think she thinks I will end up a Cat Lady like my mom was. But I told my daughter not to worry. "I am OKAY," I said. "I guess I am a little lonely but not really." The last thing I want to do is hold back my daughter by laying a bunch of misplaced guilt onto her.

The truth is, I am just sad. I am just missing people who are no longer in my life. No one can fix that. Not my husband, not my daughter, not my friends.

I am not really okay but I have to learn to be okay with not being okay.

Don't we all, at one point or another?

So, I sit here tonight, and I pet my cat, Sawyer. He purrs and he squints his eyes at me (which means I love you according to Jackson Galaxy.) http://www.animalplanet.com/tv-shows/my-cat-from-hell

I am Becoming a Cat Lady of sorts. Just like my mom. And I don't consider that a bad thing. Peace out.

Identity Crisis: When Your Youngest Leaves the Nest (After Your Oldest Died)

What now?

In a couple of week this, my youngest child will be 21. Not only is she truly an adult now, she's also been spending a lot of time away from home with her boyfriend. So although she hasn't officially left, things are definitely different.

I am having an IDENTITY CRISIS.

I have been a mom since my oldest child was born in 1987- almost 30 years. I am still a mom, of course, and I always will be. But I am no longer a "mommy" doing all those many parental things that were my norm for a few decades now. 

Every parent goes through this, I know. And I am extremely happy for my daughter as she embarks upon this new chapter in her life. However, I am struggling with a few challenges that not every mom has to deal with.

My oldest daughter was killed 10 years ago. She was only 19. So her "little" sister is now older than she is--which is weird for me. If she were still here, she could be the Big Sister and give me advice as Little Sister ventures out on her own. Maybe I would even be a grandma by now since my oldest would have turned 29 this year. A lot of maybes. And it all adds up to heartache.

As I cried this morning, wondering what my role is in life--especially since both my mom and older sister are also gone--it occurred to me that I am no longer young and pretty and I am no longer a daughter or a sister (since 2014) and now I am not even a MOMMY. 

Who the hell am I then?!

I am a wife. My husband is supportive, thank goodness. But this is not an issue for him. He doesn't have all of the instincts and emotions that course through my veins. 

I am still "me" and luckily I like "me" and I am able to be alone without being lonely.

But no matter what, this hurts. Feeling UN-NEEDED hurts. And this is on top of the unbelievable amount of pain from losing my oldest daughter.

I listened to John Mayer's "Born and Raised" today, and even though he is not a mom (not even a dad) the lyrics are spot on.

"Now and then I pace my place

I can't retrace how I got here

I cheat and lie to check my fates
It's slightly harder than last year

Then all at once it gets hard to take
It gets hard to fake what I won't be
'Cause one of these days I'll be born and raised
And it's such a waste to grow up lonely

I still have dreams, they're not the same
They don't fly as high as they used to
I saw my friend, he's in my head
And he said, "You don't remember me, do you?"

Then all at once it gets hard to take
It gets hard to fake what I won't be
'Cause one of these days I'll be born and raised
And it's such a waste to grow up lonely

I still got time, I still got faith
I call on both of my brothers
I got a mom, I got a dad
But they do not have each other

So line on up, take your place
And show your face to the morning
'Cause one of these days you'll be born and raised
And it all comes on without warning.":

My mom accomplished her goal. I was successfully "Born and Raised" and so was my sister. Sadly, she is "Born and Raised (and in Heaven)" and so is my oldest daughter. What am I supposed to do with that bundle of emotions?

On top of this, I can't vent about it to anyone. Fortunately, none of my friends can quite understand this specific Identity Crisis I am having. And there is no way I will vent to my daughter. She deserves to follow her own path and find happiness. My personal problems are NOT her problem. 
If she sees me cry, I hope she knows that I am still happy for her.