I went out to dinner last night with two dear friends, C and N. They were taking me out to celebrate my empty-nestedness.
N is an empty-nester herself as well as having been widowed; C is a partial empty-nester and is in the process of completing her Empty Nest badge.
It was great to talk about the unexpected heart-break of it with two who know what it is. I say unexpected because the heart-hurt is exactly the same hurt as the end of a relationship. The sudden welling of tears, the ache in the middle of one's chest. I though there would be a different quality to it but pain is pain, I guess.
Once we finished discussing my son's move, we too moved on. From dinner and margaritas at Mexis to dessert and coffee at Salty's on the harbourfront to drinks and gambling at the casino. We had so much fun in spite of the fact that I've never been a fan of gambling. The morose faces of the denizens remind me too well of the seriousness of their game.
But we three with our penny and quarter slots played our $20 or $30 and cheered when we won $1 like it was a fortune. (I played with $30 and with only 20 cents left won back $20 making the evening feel quite successful.)
Good times, indeed. It was the first time I'd been out of the house in four days.
Yes, I know. You don't have to tell me. Hibernating is not a good thing when you're feeling mopey.
So, tonight I'm having dinner with another friend, Sunday is an Amnesty International workshop on the Demand Dignity campaign and on Monday afternoon my writing group will meet at my place.
Hopefully, this will kick me back into gear.
Thank you, dear C and N for getting me out of the house. I always have such a great time with you both.
And the sun's out! What could be better?