The Role of the Adult Child in the Dating Life of the Over-50 Single Adult

Gee, that sounds like the topic for a doctoral dissertation!

Tyler tells me they're moving back to Youngstown, and my heart breaks. Anyone who knows me well knows I define myself first as a grandma, then a musician, then a geek, then a fiber artist.

Tyler has been my heart almost since the day he was born. For an adoptee who grew up with no identity, no place in the universe, being able to see myself in Tyler was life-affirming. Finally.

(I don't think TJ would be offended by those words. The entire family always saw him as very much like his father and Tyler very much like me. However, as we all grow older, the distinctions are becoming less distinct.)

I've been single for many of the post-divorce years that Tyler and I have been together. He has always been my go-to guy, my voice of sanity when my heart was being swept away by some guy with a big broom. Many times, a relationship has drawn to a close because of his not-random statement regarding the man.

For example, about Emotionally-Unavailable-Emil, he said he didn't think Emil could hold my interest through the years. About the Maryland Man — well, I don't remember he exact words, but I broke up with MM shortly thereafter. About the guy from El Paso, "Mom, he needs to trim his nose hair." And you know the rest of that story.

Every time I meet someone new, I wonder how he'll fit into my family. As a whole, my family is not pleased with Mr. Match's actions over the course of that relationship, and that hovers like a cloud over his calls. (Yes, he's begun calling again.) Ty and Jaci met the Gardener and, this time, I didn't even ask what they thought. (Oooh, am I gaining more self-confidence?)

Actually, I was waiting for the right time to ask Tyler what he thought, and then this bombshell was dropped. A fait accompli. No discussion, no "what do you think". Just kaBoom. And I'm having a hard time keeping the tears at bay.

It's their right as adults to manage their own lives. I don't want to manage their life — I can hardly manage my own. The boys' father and I did the same thing when TJ and Ty were around the ages that Boston and Riah are now. But, when I compare myself to my parents at that stage, my parents had each other. The marriage may have been nothing to speak of, but they had a stable life in Orlando. They didn't consider us (to the best of my knowledge) to be an integral and essential part of their lives. As Boston and Riah and Ty and Jaci are to mine.

I feel that, with their departure, I will have nothing in Tucson. I have a job that could go away with a drop of ink to the contract. I have two - count 'em, two - houses containing just things (and cats), not people. Not loved ones. I have friends, all of whom have their Significant Others and their families and their lives. I have a palmful of men who are hold various stages of interest in me. But none of those equates to family. And mine's going away.

But back to the dating issue. This whole upheaval leaves me feeling that I have no permanence in my life. Are all these men in my life just diversions until I decide where I'm going to move to next to try to establish a life?

When does it end? If one desires permanence, why is it so hard to find, so elusive?

<Question-for-the-ages on>
Do I give my kids too much control over my life? Is that why they're leaving - to get a break from Mom?
<Question off>