Contemplating Happily Ever After

At the ripe old age of fifty-one (as in: good Lord, that sounds old) is it too late to still dream of a happy life?

I'm not an unhappy person. Fact is, I'm still - even at my semi-advanced age - prone to Pollyanna-ism... always trying to find the bright side in every situation, no matter how dire. And friends and family have always turned to me for help them or to put a smile back on their face. It's what I've always been good at. I've always believed there always IS a bright side, even if it takes a while to see it.

Lately though, the proverbial brighter side of life hasn't exactly been shining it's sunny head anywhere around here. I'm filled with an wrenching emptiness that I can't seem to shake.

Empty Nest Syndrome has hit home. More like exploded. Like a huge meteor. And the resulting crater.

This was not supposed to be a part of Happily Ever After.

My children who will always mean the world to me have gotten on with their lives and three of the four are now far away living in LaLa Land, Sin City, and Happy Valley.

My son lives here at home - :-) - and while I barely see him due to work schedules, his tendency to live in his room the little bit he is home, etc, it's comforting to know he's around. Somewhere.

My three distant daughters do call me on an almost daily basis (for which I'm thankful). They fill me in on the details of their existence they want to share with me - the edited for Mom versions. And they each have their own style, that's for sure. It's funny how three sisters can be so different from each other.

One calls to find out how things are "at home" more than to let me know how she's doing. She makes a concerted effort to keep our conversation going and how I love her for it.

Another calls mostly just to vent about her life when she's stressed or troubled... I don't hear from her much if all is going well. The No-News-Is-Good-News Girl. Which makes me chuckle.

Another calls with nothing much to say at all. And that's more than okay; I'm content just hearing her voice.

The fact that they keep in touch is everything.

And from other parents I've talked with, I'm extremely lucky on that front. I'm blessed. Or simply have verbal daughters.

Or all of the above.

So what's the problem you ask?

Getting used to this quiet home is surprisingly difficult.

I'm not sure if that is due to a not-so-great marriage. Or because my life as of late mostly revolves around being a business owner.

I have hobbies and indulge in them on a regular basis. I try to take "me" time seriously. I do keep in touch with friends and family.

I'm just trying to get a handle on this. I mean...

You're born.

You grow up.

You get married.

You have children.

You raise them and give them wings.

Ummm.... check, check, check, check, and check.

Okay. Now what??

Grandchildren? Those won't be forthcoming for a while seeing as none of my offspring are even remotely close to having found The One yet. (And yes, I know that isn't necessarily the order of 'things'.) (I'm HOPING that's the order of 'things'; for their sake.) And once my grandbabies have arrived, they probably won't be living anywhere near here unless something drastically changes - not that that will keep me from doting on them.

So in the interum I have surrounded myself at home with my anipals. I've got an absolutely darling pup who is reluctantly dragged everywhere with me - he is in fact a working dog and a loving one at that. I've got my sweeter-than-sweet kitty who faithfully waits for me to come home each evening.

These little furballs have become my happiness makers.

This over my childrens' considerable accomplishments or even the growing (amazing in this economy) success of my company. Is this normal?? Or have I become nutty?

(It just hit me that before starting this I put on "The Purrfect Video" on for my cat's enjoyment - there are rodents bustling and squeeking around on my television screen. Apparently I just answered my own question.)

I guess you don't have to be a brainiac to realize I need to be needed. Needed. Why this is key in the joy department escapes me. Completely.

I've lead a wonderful life in (almost) every way. Why am I suddenly feeling so empty?

Makes me wonder if Happily Ever After actually has a shelf life...

... and mine has expired.