Monday's meeting of the MOB (Mothers of Boys) was perhaps a metaphor for my life as an empty nester.
The MOB is a group of mothers who have only sons--no daughters. We have been meeting the first Monday of the month for the last 14 years. Back in the heyday of our childrearing, we were desperate for each other's counsel. The hard work of raising boys was hair-raising. The MOB listened, urged, cautioned and soothed. They advised me on every teacher conference and playground bully.
But times have changed. Back at our very first meeting in 1998 we discussed whether one child was ready for kindergarten. Now he is a high school senior picking his college.
But we still gather every month. At least I thought we did.
There are eight of us MOBsters. Last Monday, one friend was out of town, traveling with her recently retired husband. Two women cancelled the morning of the meeting. Another just forgot. One came late, and one left early. That left the hostess, who had missed the last several meetings caring for ill parents, and me.
I had cleared my calendar and taken the day off of work. In 14 years I have missed our monthly meetings only twice.
I no longer come for the childrearing tips. I like to hear about this boy's job, or that boy's move, or another one's engagement. But I see, as I sit at the table with so many empty chairs, that as much as I love these monthly lunches with old friends, they have lost their raison d'être.
What will take their place? Being someone's mother is no longer my primary identity. This next stage of life will not be defined by my relationship to someone else. Worst of all, there will be no guidance at yummy lunches.
When I signed up for my very first email address, I combined my first and last name and became Shersolo@aol.com, and it's been my moniker ever since. As I thought of what to call a blog about my new status, my life NOT as a mother, it occurred to me that Sher Solo might be just right.
