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Many of my friends and colleges are either dealing with empty nesting
*Many of my friends and colleges are either dealing with empty nesting as their child goes off to college or are anxious as their child becomes a senior when school begins and know that the nest will be emptying soon. I understand the dilemma they are facing. So, I’d like to offer this presentation of “Two Days in Temecula” in hopes of making the journey a little less bumpy.
Adios. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Bye-bye.
What lovely words, in any language. And these are the words my two sons heard me utter as they saw the back of my head descend down the stairs of our home to my hasty escape.
I was leaving. not on a midnight train to Georgia, but for two days in sun kissed Temecula, the wine country. Why Temecula? Why not? It’s far enough to get away, but not too far to travel alone.
“I will call you when I arrive, “I turned back and yelled.
Feeling like the cat that had just caught the canary, I literally pranced down the stairs. But about half way down my knees locked. There was one more thing I neglected to say. I turned around and yelled. “Don’t call me unless it is a matter of life and death.”
It was the end of the summer, that time of year when my life abruptly shifts from laissez faire to back to business because that’s what going back to school is. It’s business. It’s not only business for students, it is business for parents with daily monitoring of homework, late night science projects, after school tutoring, early morning parent/teacher conferences, and the inevitable “call from the teacher” that all is not well.
But this year I embraced the changing season with a smile and fervent anticipation. You see my youngest son starts the fall semester as a high school senior and the promise of change for my life is now dangled in front of me like a golden carrot.
I vividly remember when my eldest son graduated from high school and went on to college like it was yesterday. The feeling then was one of having reached some symbolic half way mark. But now I see myself coming in for the home stretch with the goal line just in sight.
This was indeed a time to celebrate. But more importantly it was a time for contemplation. My life would be changing with the speed of light in merely months to come. I needed to get away and take it all in, shuffle it and spread it all out before me like a deck of cards. I needed two days in Temecula.
Temecula is approximately 95 miles Southeast of where I live in Los Angeles. The lion’s share of the ride comprises the I-5 South, 91-East and the I-15 South. But with Frankie Beverly and Maze Live in New Orleans spinning twice in my CD player, the drive was exhilarating. Unfortunately the one hour and thirty-six minute drive, as specified by Mapquest.com, turned out to be a two hour and forty-minute drive because of heavy traffic. I arrived at the Temecula Creek Inn with numb buns from the lengthy drive but mentally ready for forty-eight hours of “me time.”
“Hello? Yes I made it safely. I’ve check into my room and now I am getting ready to go out to the pool area,” I said curtly to my soon to be senior calling my cell phone, who just wanted to hear my voice. I promise I will call you later, OK? When am I coming home? The day after tomorrow. Adios. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Bye-bye.”
It’s funny, commandeering this two-day getaway was an arduous task, especially when guilt kept bridling me like a saddle. But confronting the myriad of issues that permeate my life today and those that imminently await me tomorrow was also arduous. In fact the solitude became deafening, and twenty-four hours into my stay I longed for something to shatter the stillness I had ached to embrace, like another cell call. But all those whom I had left behind in the City stayed at bay, complying with my request to be left alone.
Breathing the clean air that nurtures the vineyards was ameliorating. The country side is beautiful and serene. A late afternoon tour of a local winery proved to be what I needed to jump start my introspection. I learned that producing fine wine has many parallels with producing a fine life. It takes care, hard work, nurturing, in addition to preventive and intervention measures when weather conditions are inclement. You see the end result in always sight. It is to produce the best possible harvest that will yield the best possible wine.
In raising my children for some years as a single parent, I feel a little like a wine maker. I have worked hard in nurturing and caring for their needs in good times, lean times and bad times. All this was done to produce the best possible offspring. But unlike a wine maker who has the next harvest to look forward to, I was now facing my final harvest with my youngest son on the cusp of graduating from high school and beginning his journey into adulthood.
What will my life be like without someone to fuss over, herd, prod, guide and direct? For more than twenty years I have toiled and poured my life into two vessels who are now full, capped and ready to make their ascent into the marketplace.
And as much as I struggle in admitting it, my self identity has been closely tied to being a mother, a care giver, a nurturer. When this is taken away from me with the gentle changing of the seasons, what will I fill the void with? How will I spend those moments of solitude that are now as foreign to me as Tagalog? Heck, these two days in Temecula have left me in a quandary.
The wine tasting was great. You sip here, sip there and sip everywhere. If you appreciate wine as much as I do, it is a real treat when you discover a wine that awakens your palate and makes you say, “ahh that’s it.” It’s like a taste bud epiphany.
Well my taste buds were not the only epiphany that happened in those forty-eight hours. I had one on the languorous drive back to the hotel. I decided that I would discover what things awaken my senses. I would fill my time trying new things, embarking on new journeys and exploring new territories. I will learn how to enjoying nurturing myself to produce the best possible life for me.
Maybe I will go back to school, finish that business plan that has been yellowing in the file drawer, take a trip to Ethiopia where my ancestors are said to hail from, learn the flamenco, or take a portion of my life and pour it into some needy young women.
“Hello? Hi sweetie. Yes I will be leaving within a few hours. No, you are not bothering me. And yes I had a restful time,” I said with a smile to my sixteen-year-old who was hungry because he and his twenty-one-year-old brother had managed to consume four days worth of food in two days.
But that’s ok. I will enjoy these moments because they are fleeting. And I will miss them too and all the responsibilities that surrounds raising children. However I absolutely welcome the change of the season and look forward to what the future will yield as a result of my two days in Temecula.
Veronica Hendrix is a syndicated journalist and columnist whose work has covered the span of the human continuum - from clinical trials of male contraceptives, to the gang violence. She is a Los Angeles Emmy nominated producer. Veronica's career as a journalist has included being a reporter for USA Today and a producer for a radio talk show in Los Angeles, which focused on issues impacting the African American Family. Veronica is a proud native of Southern California where she lives with her two sons.
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