Where?

Matthew is 23 years-old now and in addition to working and attending classes at community college, he is also adjusting to his new role as "daddy" to my first grandchild.  Matthew lives approximately 90 minutes from me and my grandson another 30 to 45 beyond that.

Connor, 19, doesn't live to far from me and has been working full time.

Hunter is in the middle of his first year of high school, in the same school district he has been in since he was four years old, and has been staying with his dad; a decision Hunter made after his last psych hospitalization in May.  His report cards have been awesome and his recent IEP review shows him making progress on all the target areas.

I have found myself in a life stage - albeit an altered one - earlier than expected and it was my psychiatrist who pointed it out to me.

*face palm*

"Empty Nest Syndrome"

Empty.

Nest.

Syndrome.

The "altered" part of it is that since 1999 I believed that "Empty Nest Syndrome" would broadside me AND Henry, not just me, myself and I.

Knowing that the lease on my two-bedroom apartment would expire on December 31st (tomorrow), I needed to take a look at my options.

Where do I start?  Should I renew my lease on this apartment for another year making this the 8th or 9th year I have lived in this complex?  Should I play "Pin the Flag on the U.S. Map"?  How do I decide?

* * *

The ashes of my son Alexander were returned to the earth in a traditional Native American (Alexander and Hunter are part Ojibwa) offering in a small clearing surrounded by 30 acres of untouched land - owned by my former in-laws - in Northern Michigan. It's surrounded by a short white picket fence, there is a small concrete bench and an angel - otherwise unmarked - and a beloved family dog is buried next to him. 

Although I can visit whenever I wish, I haven't been there in 10 years or more (he died in 1995).  It seems strange to me now that I think about it, as I type this, because until now I hadn't given it a second thought, I just have not felt a "need" or a "pull" to go there.  (And it has nothing to do with my former in-laws who live next to the access road to "Alexander's Place" because we have an amicable relationship due to them being Hunter's grandparents too.)

Maybe the reason I am not drawn to that place is because Northern Michigan was never my "home"?  Although I spent my entire (short) pregnancy there and my in-laws whisked me back to Northern Michigan after I was discharged from the hospital (without my son) until the memorial service in the town where the in-laws lived a few weeks later, then back to Northern Michigan again...even now it's a blur...or maybe the reason I am not drawn there is because I feel Alexander all around me?

It seems simple to rationalize why I feel no need to visit the place where the ashes of my son are buried in the earth because I know that, as long I am still breathing, I cannot hold him in my arms.

* * *

I'm not drawn to Tiny Town either and THAT is where I grew up.  I should clarify that.  I am no longer drawn to Tiny Town.  If my Grandmother were still alive and living there, I would probably be living there too.

* * *

Although every molecule of my being has wanted to move to be with Henry in New York every-freaking-day for the past 26 months; to just pack up the essentials, give-away or sell the rest, and hit the road, yet I am rooted to this spot.  

Having made it known to Henry on many occasions that I am more than willing to relocate to New York, he has not taken me up on the offer by extending an invitation.  Henry has even mentioned moving back to Michigan on a few occasions, yet he's still in New York.

Having only myself to blame, I've allowed myself to hang in limbo all these months.  I'm my own worst enemy by giving myself carte blanche to spin in such a vicious cycle of ending/crying/beginning/crying/starting/crying/stopping - round and round and round I go.

* * * 

Until about six weeks ago I was seriously contemplating a move back to the Tiny Town area.  I didn't really have a solid reason for even thinking about relocating back to that area except I wanted to be anywhere in the world, besides New York, except here.   

Would that have been considered running away?  

Absolutely.

* * *

In two weeks I will sign a new lease on a one-bedroom apartment approximately 100-yards from my current one.  Which is hilarious because 2 years ago I moved 200-yards from a two-story, 3-bedroom townhouse I shared with Henry, Jake and Hunter into my current apartment.  Which explains why I've lived in the same complex for so long.