Still Finding Feathers

My nest has been empty for over a month now and it still taking a bit to get used to.

My son has been quite good at making sure he uploads his pump for me to look at his readings. He appears to be testing more than once a day so I try to offer little criticism and simply make gentle suggestions where needed.

Moving diabetes to the back of my mind after all of these years is a challenge.  I still wake up a lot during the night. I still worry but that is what Moms do. I worry about both of my children. Diabetes just gives me one more thing to be concerned about.

I really don’t miss diabetes. I don’t miss having to get up in the middle of the night. I don’t miss wondering why he had a higher or lower reading than expected. I don’t miss time spent at diabetes clinics.  I don’t miss trying to figure out a new insulin pump.

I do however miss my son. Don’t get me wrong, I miss both of my boys but I have had a bit longer to get used to my oldest being away.  My youngest and I have spent a lot of time together over his lifetime.  His best friend is my best friend’s son.  We visited together. We went on trips together, we counted carbs together.  He is now enjoying life on his own–doing stuff without Mom always there. I am sure he is loving the freedom! It’s different for me.

I still miss walking into the kitchen and seeing him sat at the table surrounded by a fridge full of food.  I miss seeing his chin up bar dangling from a door way. I miss his dry, quick whit and timing. I miss the chicken fights that we would break into as we met in the hall. 

We text every day.  We talk at least once a week. I make sure that diabetes is the last thing that we discuss. It is rarely ever the very first. I ask about his day, his school work, his friends…then I ask about readings, meters and his pump. When he tells me “I screwed up.”  I try to remind him that his job as a pancreas is both unnatural and exceptionally difficult.  As long as he knows what he did wrong and he tries to fix it next time, its something to simply learn from and move forward.

I still find test strips in the most unusual of places.  There was one in my washer even though I have not done any of his laundry in ages.  We have a fridge full of insulin “just in case”.  There is a bottle of test strips that I found hidden in a box and part of an insulin cartridge that still sits in a place of honor in my car.

My new life of a Mom of children who no longer live at home is still very busy. My boys are always in my thoughts and their ability to stand on their own shows that I have taught them independence.  They will be home at Christmas.  I will savor every moment. I will fall back into the testing routine.

Life is changing.  Change is part of life but finding those little feathers (also known as diabetes waste) in hidden places of the house no longer make me grumble at their ability to “jump” out of the trash.  They now make me smile because they remind me of my son.