with Natalie caine

February 7, 2006 | by Admin2 | No Comments

by David I. Sommers | submitted on February 7, 2006

I have resisted writing down my feelings about the empty nest syndrome as I have wanted to avoid – at all costs – feeling any more pain that I already do. And the amazing thing is that for me it has not even happened yet. We have two fantastic boys – a freshman and a junior tin high school. They are still at home with us – although clearly they are pulling away and moving to have their own lives. I know this is at it should be but it is so very hard.

I am a so-called older dad – got married at 39 and had Gordon and Evan relatively quickly. So I am 59 with a15 and 17 year old. Thankfully I guess I am a young 59 – still running and playing basketball (a lifelong passion). I only add this because having the boys a bit later in life might be a contributor to why I feel their move toward independence and away from me so terribly strongly.

I spent their boyhood days with them as much as I could. I had a twin running stroller and would take them on hugely long runs and walks on weekends. All day long. Walking and going to stores, getting lunch, stopping at playgrounds. Maybe it was too much. Maybe I set myself up to feel this loss so profoundly. But I loved it. I also had a baby backpack and would carry them all over the place with me. One at a time – but always together. We did tie dyes, built robots, played ball, built and launched rockets, painted, built rocket cars, built computers, watched movies, and on and on – more than I can remember. And now if I can get a couple of words of conversation I am lucky. Sure it’s so called normal – but I miss being able to do stuff with them. More recently I took them to Maryland football games and basketball games – but they are not really into it – and they are just sort of humoring me. I don’t care though – just to hang out with them is great.

So what is this all about anyhow. Why do I feel this loss so acutely and so unbelievably deeply. It is so bad – I saw a psychiatrist – and am taking Prozac – I don’t really mind – it seems to help a teeny bit – mostly it reduces the feeling of a huge hole in the pit of my stomach a little bit – but it doesn’t change the fact that the boys will grow up and they don’t need me as before. Of course the terrible irony is that as they need me less I seem to need them more. I have a good life, a great wife and a good job. Some health issues but nothing I cannot deal with. But I guess I spent too much of my life living through the boys. Is it possible – as others have asked before me – can you love somebody too much? What does that mean? Need? Want? Love? It all gets blurred in my head. I only know I grasp at the chance to do anything, go anywhere with them. A store? And I hate shopping. A concert? Sure. Watch a TV show – easy.

So, what to do. I know this is as it should be. They need to go and have their own lives. And I need to go and have my own life. So I am working hard to keep busy. To rekindle some of my early passions. I started a painting. Never stopped exercising. Nancy and I have gone out quite a bit. Movies, dinner, walks. It’s all good. But it is taking time and I am far from there yet.

People tell me the boys will never stop needing me – it will just be different. I know in my head this may be right. It will just be different. And you can’t go back – right? I suppose all of this comes down to my tolerance for change and loss – issues I have experience with in my life. One important thing I am learning is that dwelling on it does not help. It only helps me sink lower. So I try to stop my bad thoughts. Also I love my boys and importantly I think they know this at a very deep level. By this I mean at a non-verbal level – deep inside them.

I have some time to work on all this before my nest is actually empty and foe this I am grateful. All this anticipation is not great and it hurts but may in the end be a good thing so I am not devastated. In a way I am already devastated and can only get stronger. And I have to be stronger as it is the only right thing to do for the boys and my wife. I used to think running marathons was the toughest thing I did – it was child’s play by comparison.