After almost two years, our empty nest life has become our
new normal. To be honest, it took a
while to settle in. So many aspects of
all of our lives have changed over the past two years and, frankly, it has been
a challenge for all of us. It was hard
to find steady ground at times during this period and what we ended up with at
the other end doesn’t look anything like what we would have imagined, if we’d actually
slowed down enough during the child-raising years to imagine the empty nest
years at all. When you’re in the throes
of active parenting, all of your decisions are filtered through the lens of “what
do the kids need?” and when that time comes to an end, it is startling and
uncomfortable. Your role in the world
has suddenly been redefined. We have
found ourselves at a bit of a loss at times, as we try to figure out what we “want”
to do, rather than being driven by what we feel we “need” to do. It’s a muscle we haven’t flexed in more than
30 years and it took us a while to get comfortable using it again. But, two years in, we are definitely getting
the hang of it. We’ve spent money on the
house doing projects we had put off for years…we’ve spent money on ourselves,
because, hey, we can! We’ve even
travelled a little. But those are the
external representations of the shift our lives have taken and those are the
easy parts.
In my opinion, no one is really talking about for the
internal changes that come along with your empty nest. (Trust me, I’ve searched!) Conversations with many friends at the same
stage of life confirm this—no one talks about this transition in any meaningful
way. It’s always “Oh, I can hardly wait
for these kids to get out of the house” or “Oh, I never want them to leave me!”
or my favorite, the “I can hardly wait to be a grandma so I can babysit”…none
of these were me. It seems as if the
middle ground of your children actually growing up and leaving the way they’re
supposed to and how that will make you feel isn’t really talked about. It’s
loss and guilt all wrapped up in one tidy package. Let me explain: The first year all of my kids were gone from
my daily life, I missed them. I missed them terribly. I missed their friendship, I missed knowing
what was going on with them, I missed the frenetic energy they brought to my
days, I missed knowing what I was supposed to be doing with my time…I missed it
all. When I’d go visit them, I’d be sad
to leave…still feeling an active sense of loss for what had been and where I
fit in the world. But, as time passed
and my life settled into new routines and patterns, I found I didn’t feel that
active sense of loss any longer. I didn’t
worry constantly about their relationship woes or their finances or whether
they were “safe”. I was able to trust in
the parenting job we’d done, knowing that we had raised perfectly capable
individuals who knew how to reach me if they needed me. The fact that they didn’t NEED me was a testament
to the job we did as parents and that was a good thing. Honestly, it was liberating to be free of all
of that responsibility, until the guilt hit.
Why didn’t I miss them? Why wasn’t
I worried about them? Was something
wrong with me because I had cheerfully moved along? Why didn’t I want to just “help them out”
when they faced a challenge? Was I just
a selfish person now? And as for the “grandma
babysitting part”? Is it terrible that I
feel when my children have children of their own, those will be their children,
not mine? That I will help out as I see appropriate, but that it is NOT my
responsibility to provide for the child?
That I don’t want to be a daycare
provider? See what I mean? No one talks about all of this stuff. Seriously.
No one prepares you for this part, but it is part of the process. Eventually, I concluded that it was what it
was. That there are no “right” answers…that
empty nesting is as varied as families and that I didn’t need to feel guilt for
what my relationship with my adult children evolved into. Letting
go, for me, is going to look different than it does for other empty
nesters. I really truly feel as if I’ve
handed the reins of their lives to my adult children and I’m charting a new
course. I’m still married to their faither, so for me, that means rekindling an
established relationship and letting in grow in new directions and that is where
a lot of my energy goes these days. Other
empty nesters might remain fully engaged in their adult children’s daily lives,
but that’s not me. Yes, I’m aware of the
interests they have, the milestones they’re chasing, and, I like to think, some
of the challenges they’re facing. Other empty nesters might love the feeling of
racing to their adult children’s rescue at the hint of a hardship coming their
way, renewing their sense that they’re needed, but I’m not that parent. I like knowing that they’re on their way and
that they’ve got this. I don’t actually
want them counting on me to live their daily lives. Other empty nesters might long for the day when
they can immerse themselves in their grandchildren’s lives, but that’s not
me. Of course, I want to be part of my
grandchildren’s lives, but I don’t want to be a daycare provider…I want to visit
and play and then give them back to their parents. Parenting small children is hard work and,
honestly, while I absolutely adored that time of my life, I’m also very much
done with it.
As it stands now, Superman and I are looking towards our
future together. Our children are
scattered across the country these days, and really aren’t close to each other as
they navigate their adult lives, something we didn’t really see coming. They’re each very different (which we did know)
and their paths reflect this. Charming
is living in Seattle and is an author who has published two YA novels. Valiant is married and working in CyberSecurity
on the East Coast. Buttercup is also
married and busy preparing for the birth of her first child this summer. (See?
The grandparent questions were definitely relevant.) For the short run, at least, there will not
be the big family vacations we kind of/sort of envisioned. Each of them is forging their own path and I
am proud to say they are all thriving. When
we part from them after a visit, we are ready to head to our home and leave
them to theirs, having the glow of a lovely trip to hold us over until the next
time we get together. I think this is
how it is supposed to be. We are now
looking to our lives, just as they look to theirs.
