Yeah, it's one of my favorites "blasts from the past."
I even played for many years on a co-ed softball team with the name.
It's a lifelong theme.
My son is actually sitting in the other room, watching the movie.
I cooked dinner (actually, heated up leftovers from last night) and he said, "Nah. I don't want any. I'm making my own dinner. He whipped up an amazing meal, using the pesto I "custom made" 3 days ago, after harvesting some basil in the garden. He used the leftover chicken. He used some shredded parmesan. He used a whole-grain SaraLee bagel. He used some sun-dried tomatoes. I even taught him how to use the broiler.
While I ate leftovers, he ate a masterpiece.
So, here's my quandry. I'm really, really depressed this evening. I am excited that the kids are independent, but I didn't prepare myself well enough for not-being-needed. Of course, I provide food, clothing, shelter, money, transportation, and more, but they act like they don't need me. I'm trying to be logical, and am remembering all that the therapist is teaching me, but it still hurts sometimes. For some reason, tonight is one of those times.
Man, I wish I could go see Robert Plant singing right now. That'd take my mind off this. Or, I wish Carnivorous Hippy was well and could go to a movie with me. Or, I wish we had furniture in our house, so I could go sit in the living room on a comfy couch. Or, I wish I had $500 to spend on something fun. A Led Zepplin concert. That'd be good...