Transitions

My husband and I are facing transitions coming up in our relationship. For 28 (almost 29) years we have seen ourselves as parents of a large family, but they are about to be launched and sometime in the next 5 years we might be back down to the two of us. To be fair, it has never been just the two of us; my step-son was 4 when we got married so I got the instant family that I had not planned on when I was a girl. Now, with the youngest of 6 about to turn 17 and looking forward to her graduation in a year and a half, we have to find ourselves in a totally different situation than we’re used to. Change can be scary. Will we like the people our children marry? Will they be able to have children? Will they be able to afford children? What will their expectations be for us? Will their in-laws want to change our traditions because they don’t fit in with ours? These and many more questions plague me. Even more serious are questions like: Have I raised them right? Do they get what we were trying to instill in them? Will they stay faithful to the church? Will they stay faithful to each other? Did we do enough? Did we do too much? Some of the answers will just have to wait for their launchings. Change can be different. I like to kid about the kind of food we will eat when we don’t have picky children to feed. I talk about shopping at the healthier and sometimes more expensive stores when they’re gone. I wonder about how we will decide what we want to eat when it’s just the hubby and I. We mostly agree, but we have a hard time sometimes even just picking a restaurant. And then there’s the thought of chores. We will not be able to blame any messes on the children that don’t live here unless, like the grandchildren we already have, they are here a lot and the messes remain. Still questions persist. Will I be lonely without my children around me? Will I feel free? Change can be good. I now share my craft room with the son that I thought would be gone on a mission at this time. He didn’t go. Now he sleeps here and I wait for him to wake up so I can study and work. The hubby and I have discussed big plans for this extra master that I use as my “craft room” (read “crap room” and about how we will get rid of the big bed we’ve kept here for visitors (one of the reasons why this son like sleeping here) and we will get a pull out couch and make this room better. We are also in the process of remodeling one step at a time. We’ve just finished new sheds and are looking to do the kitchen in the next couple of years. We have big plans of what to do with the master bedroom, which includes the idea of knocking down the wall between our room and our daughter’s room when she no longer lives there. Will we be haunted by her childish laughter? Will we look for the boys around corners? Will I ever feel comfortable coming into this room early in the morning instead of waiting for the sleeping boy to emerge? One thing I know. Even if we change our minds about staying here and fixing everything up, even if we end up going back to Utah because all the kids have left the state of Arizona, even if nothing turns out like we plan, one thing we have. For me home is where my hubby is. And I think home for him is where I am as well. He is the love of my life. One of the readings for the marriage class this week talked about how the person you’re married to when you hit 65 is not the same person you married in your twenties. It’s like a renewal every year you are together, with the pain, and the growth and the changes; if you’re lucky and careful, you will choose that person again and again. Forever.