The afternoon my husband and I dropped our daughter off in front of her college dorm — a week before the formal start of classes — I had a moment. A chest-clutching, heart-pounding, eyes-burning, “I-won’t-cry,” moment. My firstborn was leaving our nest.
Then we drove home.
I knew that the move was temporary. She was living only a couple of hours from home and, with her computer and smart phone, if I wanted to talk to her, or see her, we were an Internet connection away. We didn’t change her room, despite my visions of an office-slash-home gym and, of course, she was home during holidays and summer breaks, so it was only a semi-empty nest.
Then she graduated and wanted to go back for her master’s degree – three states, 650 miles, and 14 hours away. I had more than a little moment with that.
That time it was different. I couldn’t jump in my car for a short road trip to visit, and she couldn’t come home for an impromptu weekend. We were at least a full day apart. She was even living in a different time zone. Video chats and phone calls had to be meticulously planned around classes and work.
She was signing a lease on her own, applying for student loans on her own, getting sick on her own, working on her own, all those grown-up things grown-ups do on their own. Our relationship shifted. She still called often, but it was more to share her day, and not so much seeking maternal wisdom.
On track to graduate this spring, there is talk of her staying in her adopted state, or perhaps looking for work in D.C. – even farther away. This may have been the last Thanksgiving and Christmas that we are together as a family, and that’s a harsh reality.
All those times I joked about looking forward to having an empty nest, to not having ankle-biters to wrangle came back to me, and it stung. This is really happening; my days as a stay-at-home mom are over. My identity for so long is no longer valid, and I am having a crisis of self.
I know I will always be a mother, and both of my kids still need me, but it’s not a 24/7 job like it used to be. I finally need to decide what I want to be when I grown up.
Full-disclosure: I still have one child at home. Our 19-year-old son lives with us, but with his schedule, and independent spirit, I barely see him too.
Maybe my melancholy comes from my first child out of the house being a daughter and feeling more protective of her. Having your firstborn leave home, just like her being the first one to leave home for kindergarten, is hard to reconcile.
xo
Tara
[...] Today, my first submission to Just. Be. Enough is online: “Empty nesting.” [...]
OH Tar. This piece is exactly why I wanted you to write for JBE, I wanted to hear how it is from the “other side” from someone who is there…from someone who is feeling all the things that I have years to see.
I am only 7 years younger than you, but when I think of this way..that my sons are 5 and your daughter is 24 or so, I see our lives with such clarity.
I want to send you love and comfort, I want to tease you and tell you that Gio or Jacob can come and stay with you any ole time you want, I want to dream of my own time “ALONE” that is more than a decade away at this point,..but I know it’s all just words. My reality and yours are so different from one another but I also know that as mothers, we understand one another at a base level, in the heart.
Thank you for starting your story here, with the one that I knew would touch me and make me think very deeply about my role as “mom”.
Kir recently posted..Georgia Longing
Wow. You write of my life that is just mere moments (in the general scheme of things) away. I ache for you and, soon enough, for me.
Patois42 recently posted..Everyone has a Price, Even Schools
These thoughts are in the back of my mind, but I needed to read them today, with my little guy with a cold repeating “Mama?” 7 billion times. There are days I just want 5 minutes to think, but then I remember one day I will have so much more time to fill and there will be a heart-twist at that point, too. I know you will do wonderful things in your Empty Nest, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be tugs of sadness over it, too.
angela recently posted..Finding Light in Winter
Oh man! I am not looking forward to those days. I am still in the thick of it and will be for some time. (My baby is 20 months old). In some ways I look forward to those years, but I think I will miss having little ones.
Stacey recently posted..Win, lose or die
Feeling for you.
idiosyncratic eye recently posted..Patchwork
Tara, you speak for all moms, and you do it so eloquently. I can certainly understand why you were asked to contribute to this site. Congratulations. I have followed Thin Spiral Notebook for some time and am always enlightened and enrichened by your words and beautiful photos. Thanks for sharing.
I can so relate to this. My life is in a similar state, including the son who lives at home but is rarely seen. I know he comes back here every night. I can tell by the steadily emptying milk jug and diminishing stash of sweets and chips.
It’s a strange place to be, isn’t it? How can we be empty-nesters? We’re still so young!
Terri recently posted..Happy Work
Tears came to my eyes. Your heartbreak is so poignant in your writing. I’m in a different situation with one child temporarily living elsewhere, so I’m getting a taste of what the future will be like. I’m not so keen on any of my babies growing up any time soon despite the constant volleys of “mom!” I hear. These are things I am learning to cherish more deeply before they are gone. Thank you for baring your heart to us.
SAM recently posted..Four-letter Words