Beware the Empty Nest

We're not that great at selfies, but we are great at adventuring!

Empty nest: a reality I have dreaded the last few years, knowing full well it was approaching more quickly than I could admit or wrap my mind around. People warned me about it, made jokes about it and its impending doom, and truly made me worry.

For the last 22 years, my life has revolved around the two children that we brought into the world. We hadn't had Meg for more than just a few weeks when my husband, Mitch, came home from work and began what had become our primary conversation once she entered our lives: how is she, how well did she eat, how many diapers had I changed, how much did she sleep? For some reason, it struck both of us that particular day just how much our relationship, particularly our communication patterns, had changed.  We had been together for seven years and had forged a relationship centered on shared interests, intellectual stimulation, and adventure. In a matter of days, though, all of that had been replaced by her. And when we added Seth to the picture, we had twice as much to discuss, to worry about, to focus on.

As the kids developed interests, so did we. As the kids studied for school, so did we. As the kids struggled, celebrated, and grew, so did we. Truly, our relationship centered on our common goal of investing every ounce of energy we had into raising happy, confident, competent children. And, as a result, our conversations centered almost exclusively on them and their lives (although as they aged we talked less and less about their bowel movements). In the process, we seemed to lose the first seven years of our lives together, those interests and conversations and that relationship that had been the beginning of our journey. Perhaps we could be criticized for investing ourselves so fully into parenting that we neglected our marriage. But it was a decision mutually agreed upon and consciously made. It was a decision we had never regretted.

About a year ago, knowing this day was on the horizon, we began talking about how we would fill the holes and gaps. We talked about developing new interests, taking up new hobbies, and both of us worried, I think, about living alone in the house together. We worried about what we do without the kids, without our center.

That day is here and many people regularly ask me if I am ok—with genuine concern in their voices. I feel a bit guilty that I have nothing but happiness to report. I am sad that my children are grown and that phase of our lives is over, but unexpectedly, an empty nest has proven less difficult than I had anticipated. In fact, it has proven to be fun. We have essentially picked up where we left off and our relationship is once again our focus, except now we have adult children, our beautiful best friends, to share it with.

I now believe that empty nest is the wrong metaphor and our fears were without merit. Our lives are not empty. Our home is not empty. Our relationship is not empty. In fact, the opposite is true. Our lives are more full as our children fill their nests and share them with us. I am now thinking I should warn others that an empty nest may, in fact, be something to look forward to, that an empty nest is a just reward for those wonderfully crazy parenting years. 

Oh, and as an added bonus, we can streak from the bathroom to the bedroom worry free (you know, if we forget to take a clothing item to the shower of if we change our minds about what we want to wear)!

Written January 18, 2015