The other day it occurred to me, my life had come full circle.
Recently, my husband and I traveled south to visit my sister and her husband at their lake house in North Carolina. Our first day the guys played golf and my sister and I caught up while enjoying the amazing view of mountains and lake. At sunset, we all climbed into their boat and drove to the middle of the lake to admire the beautiful sight. As we all sat their chatting, having a cocktail, relishing our friendship it dawned on me, this was the first time the four of us had been alone together in over twenty-five years. This very event was what we had dreamt about as young twenty something’s with small children. All those years ago we said to ourselves, someday when we are older we will have time to focus on our relationship again. Someday we will take vacations together. Maybe we will even buy houses beside each other and retire. The guys can play golf and the girls can talk without interruption.
How very surreal to be living your dream, to have it come true. To know we had made it through some difficult times, yet, here we were, just as close, still having as much fun as we did when we were all at Purdue University together.
It is a wonderful accomplishment to have shared a lifetime of experiences with my sister and her husband. I know for a fact that not all siblings remain close and that is why I especially treasure the relationship I share with my sister Roxann. We are sisters and more importantly, friends. I know I count her husband as a friend also. My god! I remember helping him decipher his freshman Purdue schedule by writing it out on a paper plate, apparently the only writing surface we could find. How fortunate we are to have each other, to be able to laugh at past silly memories, to understand why certain incidents cause our eyes to go misty. Friendships that stand the wear and tear of so many years go deep into your very soul.
As I sat in that boat enjoying the view of the sunset and my friends, I understood I could not take this moment or the next few days we had for granted. Who knows how many more times we will have the opportunity to share that dream we all had so many years ago. Life can change in an instant; I think most of us, at least those of us in our fifties, understand this. A moment watching the sunset with the couple I have known the longest in my life was rare indeed. 
Purdue University
Confessions of an Empty Nester
I heard the door close shut for the last time as my daughter carried her suitcase to her car and drove away. Actually, I really didn’t hear the door close because I wasn’t home. We would say our goodbyes later. But, the way my emotions were going, I swear I heard that door slowly squeak shut when she texted she was getting into her car and leaving her childhood home.
Having my youngest daughter, a recent Purdue University graduate, live at home for a few months had been difficult for all involved. She was miserable and my husband and I bounced between trying to make her happy and hoping she would decide to leave so all of us could go back to whatever we thought was our normal lives. Yet, hugging my daughter goodbye as she set out on an adventure before heading to law school in the fall, I had mixed emotions. I knew this arrangement would be better for her; she needed to get out on her own. But, I was sad that our time together was over and quite honestly, I never felt like we got to enjoy it.
The other reality was the fact that my husband and I were now true empty nesters. We had dabbled in it for a few years. There were long stretches of just he and I as our daughters attended college many states and miles from home. Still, we knew the girls would come back for periods of time. We had the holidays with them, moments during the summer. Now, here we were with two vacant bedrooms in need of a paint job.
My husband and I are very social and we often find plenty to do on the weekends. But, I wonder, do we still maintain the same goals in life? I know for a fact we disagree on the purchase of a second home. What else lies between us and seems unsolvable? Can we proceed down our current path, both of us questioning if we agree on how to live out the next years of our lives? Will we live up to our wedding song words?
“Though the binding cracks and the pages start to yellow, I’ll be in love with you.”
Dan Fogelberg
Because of these differences, I have wondered lately, what keeps some marriages together, after the children leave, and why do others fall apart? I understand there are marriages that were just not meant to be and breaking up makes the most sense. Then, there are the couples who seem to have drifted away from each other but remain living together. Maybe it is the tiring thought of starting over that keeps a number of couples together. There are overwhelming questions. Who gets to keep the friends? How do we split up holidays with our children and with the hoped for grandchildren? How do I go forward from here, can the future alone be better? Consequently, maybe staying is easier.
Or possibly, staying as a couple is because of desires that go beyond boredom and monetary items. There is the anticipated warmth of a grandchild as they snuggle into your lap; the dream of once again seeing the belief in a child’s eyes at the thought of Santa. Quiet talks with daughters on how their lives are going. Being there for their triumphs and holding their hand when life throws a curve ball. Perhaps, as an aging couple these welcoming thoughts draw us together and allow us to continue a relationship over a quarter century old. Maybe it is too difficult to throw out all of those past life experiences that we have walked down and sometimes stumbled through. Memories can inflict a powerful hold, ones that give the heart an opportunity to cling to the thought of more good times to come. I have recollections that allow me to remain hopeful of a future together with a guy I sometimes find stubborn, withdrawn and grumpy. A husband I don’t always understand. As we move forward on our journey together a thought has occurred to me. I need, during those difficult moments, to learn to step back and allow my heart to search the caverns of its memory to a time when the anticipation of seeing him made it beat like crazy.
Over indulged? I think not.
I celebrated my 54th birthday yesterday. October 21, 2012. I reveal my age for several reasons. One, I am proud to say that as a 50 something woman, I am still learning and growing. A part of life which I believe should never stop. Two, I have never been afraid or ashamed of my age. Yes, I admit that there were and are times in my life in which I was shocked by my accumulation of years. But, most of all I am proud of the way I am turning out. At this stage in my life and maybe it is because of age, I like who I am. I hope I have many years left in which to continue to grow into the person I want to be.
Therefore, I believe in celebrating birthdays. I enjoy being the center of attention. Lavished with Happy Birthday wishes by cards, the internet, face to face, I will take them anyway the good intentions come. As we women toil along in our lives there are many times we can feel invisible. Our children and husbands have come to expect the big and small gestures we do for them. Right now in my life, I do a lot of my work from home. The commute to my home office, in a converted bedroom, is very short. Because of this and also the fact that, I was a stay at home Mom for many years, my family assumes that I will do all of the grocery shopping, errand running and general house maintenance. On the days when I do travel with my other job to local schools, for The Scotia-Glenville Traveling Museum, the assumptions are still the same. I don’t mind being the person who is in charge of these matters, what does bother me is the fact it is all assumed and never appreciated.
Every year, as my birthday approaches, I don’t hesitate to remind my family of the upcoming day. I have no intention of being a martyr and secretly hoping for a celebration, but not getting what I want or perhaps need. And, my family, over time, has learned to do the day big. On different years, my birthday has turned into more than a day. It has spread itself out to include perhaps the weekend or even week. This year, since my birthday fell on Sunday, I took advantage of the whole weekend. On Saturday I watched Purdue play football. (Once again struggling to remain part of the faithful with the ending score). My husband took me out to dinner that evening. Sunday, my family surprised me with an amazing, over the top brunch, in Saratoga Springs. Then Paul and drove to the Adirondacks to pick up our season passes at Gore Mountain and just enjoy one of our favorite areas. It was all about me and I loved it. No regrets, no worries about anyone else. Only thoughts of, what I wanted.
All woman should have a few days every year where they are the center of attention. A day where they are not invisible. A day when all of the acknowledgments, that should be said daily, are said with sincerity and love. Yesterday was my day.
Labor Days I Remember
I don’t recall many Labor Days as a child. Growing up, those carefree summer days of Midwestern humidity melted together into one big holiday. One day, I was celebrating the end of school. The next, I was headed back, pencil and notebooks in hand, wondering how summer skipped by so quickly. My first recollection of this weekend as a Holiday always sends my mind back to the Labor Days spent at Purdue University. Those weekends were some of my best.
When I attended Purdue, 1977-1981, classes started the week before Labor Day. This meant the first full weekend back on campus, was three days of welcome. It was my first weekend of regained freedom. College summers in Wabash, Indiana were long drawn out affairs with nothing going on. The parents still held the reins and fun was pulled in. Labor Day was the kick-start to the freedom of campus living. On that particular weekend homework was a distant thought, classes having just begun. The next few days sprawled in front of me seemly endless.
Those Labor Day weekends began with slowly waking to sweat beginning to form as the heat, which truly never left over the night, began to rise. For a few moments I would lie still on the upper bunk and listen to the hum of the many fans whirring in the windows of Windsor Hall. Soon the day was calling and the excitement of discovering friends I had missed since last May, forced me from my bed and down the hall to shower. By midmorning the dorm rooms were so stifling everyone spilled outside. Frisbees were flying, Doobie tunes were blaring, and cheap beer was flowing. Three full days of getting back into the groove of life on The Purdue University campus lay before me. There were girlfriends to confide in, boys to drool over and a full year of weekend parties to anticipate. I took full advantage of these first few days and allowed the Purdue campus atmosphere to once again seep into my pores, returning me to college life.
Eventually, the weekend would wind down, sometime on Monday. Some students, anticipating classes on Tuesday broke from the parties early. Others kept going late into the night, neglecting sleep before the rigors of classes began. For me, falling asleep to the laughter of fellow students meant the start of another good year. Summer never had a better ending and smoother transition into the fall.
Purdue and all of it’s Promises
I sit in one of my favorite places on the Purdue University campus. The balcony off the Union building. It is only a floor above the sidewalk, but it is a view of campus life.
Today, many people, other than students, are meandering around. This is graduation weekend 2012. My daughter Kristen will take the walk across the stage at the Elliot Hall of Music Saturday morning.
As I sit and sip my cinnamon dolce latte, I once again come to the realization. I love this campus. It is here I matured and developed into much of the adult I am today. On this campus I felt secure to explore new boundaries; establish new friendships, keeping some forever, others a fleeting moment. I investigated love and it’s highs of first encounter to the eventual low of break-up.
When I was at Purdue, 1977 through 1981, I lived for three of those years in Windsor Hall, which consists of five separate buildings. They look like they sound, fashioned after the Windsor Castle of England. As residents we enjoyed three meals prepared in our small cafeteria and once a week the cleaning staff left fresh sheets for our beds. I felt the security of home and the adventure of a parent not always looking over my shoulder.
My experiences involved what many students of yesterday and today did. Parties, dancing, football weekends, basketball games and studying. I grew on this campus. The people and even the buildings surrounded me with love. Today, as I sit and enjoy the beautiful blue sky and the cool morning warming to a perfect spring day; I am once again filled with warmth, happiness and the knowledge that all things are still possible.
Rosemary Christle-Renaud 