“Even to your old age
and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will
sustain you and I will rescue you.”—Isaiah 46:4
Time for another
coloring, I decide, examining my reflection in the vanity mirror, my silver
strands decorating my head like tinsel on a Christmas tree, reminding me that
I’m not getting any younger. I wipe the
sleep from my eyes. But I can’t wipe
away the wrinkles—or the knot in my stomach.
Slipping two slices of bread into the toaster, I somehow know
that breakfast can’t ease the ache either.
Christmas goodies line the counter, but overindulgence isn’t the culprit
for the pain. Handmade by my daughter
and step grandsons, the desserts serve as a reminder of the happy time we
shared just four days prior, my tiny cottage bursting at the seams with eleven
loved ones squished together on every square inch of my well-worn furniture,
shreds of gift wrap and “Ooos” and “Ahhhs” flying through the air.
Not a voice can be heard this morning, though—unless you
count the occasional whine from Kobe the dog, who misses them as well.
Some call it the empty nest syndrome. I call it
loneliness. All my children are on their
own. Well, almost. My youngest is due to marry in a couple
months. Meanwhile, she’s in college—and
the college bills are coming my way, adding to my already overwhelming stack of
bills for her sister’s education. With the number in my household dwindling
along with my finances, I’m struggling in more ways than one.
