You only grow by coming to the end of something and are beginning something else.
— John
Irving
Change is inevitable, growth is intentional.
— Glenda Cloud
Argue for your
limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.
— Richard Bach
If you always put limits on
everything you do, physical or anything else, it will spread into your work and into your life. There are no limits. There
are only plateaus, and you must not stay there, you must go beyond them.
— Bruce Lee
A
discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind.
— Albert Szent-Gyorgyi
I got a phone call from a dad who will be an empty nester. His daughter is graduating high school. He has been a
provider, husband, dad, son, friend… He says the one part of his life he loves the most is being a
dad.
He talked about wanting to do it right. He wants to let go and let her really grow up and he wants
to stay in touch.
He is
I heard Oprah tell the story that as she waved goodbye at the airport to her friends who came for her Legends Ball ,
she asked herself,
I am sitting in my empty nest with no little hands to hold or jumping feet to bounce into my Sunday morning bed. No
colorful hand made cards with the letters that were always crooked and multi sized, saying I LOVE YOU, MOM
HAPPY MOTHER
I am working in my empty nest and I hear his story on the news.He seems so calm and light. I liked when he said
that he lost a lot of moments because of his problems and self absorption. He said he learned to struggle through the
adversity and the process of depression.
He has kids and a wife. He knows he is a great parent and
a great friend but not great being married. They are divorcing.
He doesn
by Dorsetta Hale | submitted on May 7, 2006
The grocery store clerk at Manor Safeway was so proud of me today. He pronounced, “Ms. Hale, you saved $7.75 in coupons and $41.29 in club card purchases!””
Ka-ching! That would be money in the bank, dinner at a nice restaurant or a press & curl and deep conditioning, if I didn’t have kids. I hadn’t really looked at it that way until my son Drew pointed out how his dad and I would be livin’ large if it weren’t for our dependents. Now that he and his twin sister, Ali, (the babies of our family) are high school seniors, they’re watching every penny we make. They have plans.
Among the mass mailings of invitational postcards and college brochures for the twins, have been unsolicited catalogs addressed to me. Today, I received one from an outfit called PB Teen, which sells retro hip dorm room furnishings; the stuff that was popular in their grandparents’ heyday of the sixties. The other is from Pottery Barn Kids, for the nouveau riche baby set whose parents are a few years shy of retirement, with enough income to dispose of on Overnight Shipping. These companies are trying to market to the wrong person. When my kids go off to college, so do the contents of their rooms. I have plans of my own and they don’t include refilling my empty nest.
I love my children as much as any parent, almost as much as Emperor penguins love theirs. We’ve just seen the documentary called “March of the Penguins,” and I mean those animals’ devotion to their mate, their family, and community is unparalleled to humans. While the male members of the group march across the ice deserts of Antarctica to find food, the females wait behind to give birth to their egg. After a couple of months the fathers return nice and fat to switch places with mom, so that he can stay behind to protect the egg while she goes off to bring home the bacon/fish. If she makes it home alive without loosing too much weight, she shares the contents of her stomach with their newborn baby chick. Meanwhile, dad, who’s been starving to death, goes off again with the other fathers, knowing that when he gets back, if mom has done a good job, their baby will have learned to take care of itself and be a productive member of society.
My husband and I didn’t go to those extremes but we did raise some eyebrows with our old fashioned unconventional approach to child rearing. If a family member couldn’t be the primary caregiver for our baby while we went to work, then one of us was going to stay home. So we didn’t keep up with the Joneses. Their grass wasn’t any greener. Who were those people anyway?”
While operating a childcare center, I made ends meet by using my exquisite handwriting skills. I addressed and stuffed a thousand envelopes a week in my spare time for one of those junk mail companies that recruits students, homemakers and shut-ins.
Whenever we bought a new car, stripped of the bells and whistles, we drove it till it died of old age. I learned how to comparison-shop and coincide vacations with business trips. I became a financial wizard on a tight budget and the kids never wanted for anything, except the latest computerized contraption or shoes that cost as much as the gas and electric bill. Our efforts to teach them the value of a hard-earned dollar were somewhat hindered, but they learned despite attempts to spoil them by certain blood related interest groups who shall remain nameless.
Drew and Ali have been asking questions recently about checking accounts, stocks, and mortgages and requesting recipes for their favorite meals. Ali has been cooking elaborate breakfasts – even on school days – and Drew now has a habit of keeping the ironing board in his room. When I did my annual spring-cleaning and prepared boxes of household goods for charity, they both pointed out pieces for me to put aside so that they could use them when they move out.
I’ve been sprucing up the place, getting a room painted here, the bathroom remodeled there, and when I announced that I was thinking of putting in a new driveway for the Airstream trailer, the twins asked in unison, “Where is the money coming from?””
They needn’t be concerned. We still have enough in the nest egg to cover college application fees and two sets of luggage.
Our children, each and every one of them, will always be welcome to come home again, but just so there is no misunderstanding, they’ll be using the guest towels.
Empty Nester knows children change their minds. We know they aren
Dan knows his son is leaving. He just got the acceptance to the college of his choice.
He knows all
the right things to think and say, but he is feeling the pain.
We chatted on the phone and here are three
things that we came up with to help his transition:
Do fathers and sons kick off by going camping?
Write your son a letter of the good times you have had and what you adore about him. Sprinkle in
some wishes for his bright future!
Put it on the calendar that you will plan a bowling night with your
buddies. Plan ahead for support and fun.
Be gentle with yourself. You have never been in this place
and change is uncomfortable.
Keep practicing being present with yourself and your son. Leaping
ahead loses the precious moments of hearing and seeing your child with joy when he walks in the
room.
Remind yourself he is into his friends and that doesn
by Kate Fratti | submitted on April 26, 2006
If you’re in line at the supermarket this month or at the hair salon or at the dentist’s office or gym and see a perfectly cheerful, stable, middle-age woman suddenly pull a tissue from her pocket or purse and cry a little, look away.
She’ll feel really silly if you don’t.
Don’t ask if you can help. You can’t.
Chances are good she’s just sent a kid off to college or will have to soon, and while she’s been preparing herself forever for this damned empty nest everyone warned her about, the grief gets the better of her some days.
Give her a minute and she’ll get a grip.
It’s just that the kids she wished would hurry up and grow so she’d finally have some peace and quiet are doing just that.
She’s missing them like you wouldn’t believe.
I am her some days. Overwhelmed and embarrassed by this sense of loss. And my nest has been only partially abandoned.
My daughter, in her second year of college, will come home once in a while to do laundry and get a home-cooked meal and an infusion of cash. And my son, who’s finishing up high school and applying to college, can still be found some Saturdays sprawled on my couch watching cartoons or leaning on the open refrigerator door, which I wish he wouldn’t do because it’s going to snap off.
But mostly, he’s happily busy with school and with work and with friends. For now, family time is pretty much last on his list. If his dad and I don’t insist on Sunday night dinner, we can forget about it.
And while I know it’s supposed to be this way, it makes me incredibly sad sometimes.
I actually got a hint of how sad I’d be a long time ago when the kids were still small.
It happened when, for the first time, I let them walk without me through the back yard to a friend’s house a few doors down. They were excited to go it alone and promised to hold hands the whole way. Each kissed me goodbye and I watched from the sliding glass door of the family room as they trudged hand-in-hand through the back yards. I kept waiting for them to look back, but neither did.
I waited until I saw the friend’s mom let them in through her sliding glass door and wave, then found myself fighting back a good cry. The tears surprised me.
What the heck was that about? I’d been longing for 30 minutes to myself since they were born, I told my own mom later.
Of course, you cried. They didn’t need you. They’ll need you less and less all the time.
I think it was probably at that very moment that I decided I’d better go back to work. At first it was for just a few hours a week. Eventually, as they grew older, I worked away from home more and more.
I see now I wasn’t just building a career, that I also was preparing for the time when they would trudge out the front door – for good.
No way was I going to be left standing there by myself feeling lost and wishing they’d turn back around. That wouldn’t be good for me or fair to them. A kid oughta be able to walk away when it’s time, without feeling guilty about poor old mom.
So I got busy with things that weren’t all about them.
But I know now that there’s no protecting against the hurt of no longer being at the center of your kid’s life.
That’s because no matter how many hours I work, how many adult friendships I cultivate, how many vacations I plan alone with their dad, somehow they remain at the center of my life.
I just don’t let on to them too often. Wouldn’t be right.
Instead, these days, when I’m especially missing the kids, I spend more time with my own mom, the one who didn’t fuss (much) when I left her on the backburner a million years ago.
Lucky for me, at 70 she’s healthy and happy to get my call, especially when it’s to see if she wants to hang out.
They say what goes around, comes around. I’m thinking it’s true.
Kate Fratti, who reminds you to call your mom, can be reached at 215-949-4179 or kfratti@phillyBurbs.com.
Kate is a single mom whose kids are learning the art of time management and how to never sleep. You got it! They
are in college.
Kate is a single mom whose kids are learning the art of time management and how to
never sleep. You got it! They are in college.
She wonders when she will get a call that isn
A girlfriend called and asked if we could go to lunch. She was feeling the Easter blues from not seeing her daughter
since Christmas.
Lisa was the holiday happening mom. She had the egg hunt and the table where the
little ones, including myself, had to dye and dot those cute eggs. We made our own baskets out of strawberry, green
cartons.
Her brunch of quiches and fruit tarts and spring colored table settings launched us into the
season of smiles. No more chills in the house. We were in the yard and seeing the blue skies,
again.
We shared our stories of how our kids were doing. Mine, as you know, is studying abroad in
Europe. Her daughter is on the east coast and home is on the west.
Letting go rolls on and on when
you just want it to hit that stop sign already. Talking, tears, and laughter helped, but not having your kids home to
share in the traditions of Easter baskets or chocolate matzos is a big OUCH.
Next plan
by Ruth Ridley | submitted on April 10, 2006
Someone once said that when you have kids, “the days are long and the years are short”. Wow, who can relate to that? Everyone says, “Enjoy them while they are young, as the time will fly?” Of course that never would apply to me, right? Wrong. Our children went to a lovely little Christian elementary school, and I never thought I would have a 6th grader, as they looked so big. Now the 6th graders look small and we are looking at Empty Nest straight in the eye in a few short years.
Nearly two years ago (September 2004), we drove our eldest son to a nearby college to live in the dorm. For some reason, I didn’t walk out of the dorm crying. I guess the fact that he came home every weekend to have his wash done and have a good meal or two helped. Then last August 2005, we drove our two oldest to their first apartment, near the college they would attend. What a difference a year makes. The weeks leading up the event, I thought I was ok, until one afternoon I walked into our favorite family shopping store and broke into tears. The days of the whole family jumping into the car and coming to this store were over.
Wouldn’t you think that with two children still safely in the nest, that I wouldn’t have these empty nest feelings? After all, they were only 45 minutes away. The following months, I think my friends were afraid to talk to me, as I was easily teary-eyed. I kept getting, “are you ok, Ruth”? Wiping the tears away, I would lie and say yes. My productivity at home was less. My hand couldn’t reach my mouth fast enough consuming food to help the pain. So, even with two children still at home, I realized that I was encountering the Empty Nest feelings.
Wind the clock back to the fall my eldest went off to school. One of my friends has a real soft heart to young moms. My attitude (sorry to say) was, well I made it – so should they. But through the months, I began to realize that these young moms really have needs. So with prayer and great brainstorming, we started a MOMS group. I am a hesitant leader at best. My husband encouraged me and that is what I needed.
Set in motion was a way for me to reach out to other moms, as was done for me when my kids were little. We wanted to create a safe haven for just two hours a month where moms can leave their children safely with childcare, enjoy a breakfast they didn’t fix, learning about parenting issues as well as discussion time to get to know each other. I am NOT a crafty person, but found that through crafts, it is another way for the moms to get to know each other.
Our monthly topics have been everything from “Finances” (both for your children and as wives), Husband/Wife Relationships, the Value of a Mom, Raising children in an X-rated world to Cleaning Tips. Our crafts have been fun, simple, practical – live floral arrangement, balloon making (for children parties), card-making, making inexpensive Easter baskets, decorating Christmas cookies and even learning how to sell on Ebay!
Back to my Empty Nest tears. After a couple of months of crying, I finally went to the web to find other empty nesters. To my surprise, I found the most wonderful, caring group of women all going through the same sadness I was experiencing. I wasn’t alone. I signed up for one of the tele-seminars at which Natalie suggested that we think of ways to reach out, to start to build our new lives. I realized that God had given me a start by creating the MOMS group.
It is a new world, Empty Nest. No, I am not really there yet, but the pain of children flying the coup, is still there. Yes, the pain will be worse when the last one leaves, but I am praying that I will realize that my husband and I are a team, we can go on. We will go through the grieving process. My husband is already working out places to travel together. What do you think about India? I personally would like to go to Israel. I was never really a great cook, and now with the smaller family, I am branching out to cook new things. How can I grow? These are the things I am going to have to focus on. My parents let me fly, I need to remember that, and let go and let my children fly.
Natalie Caine, M.A. natalie@lifeintransition.org