The Empty Nest is the Easy Part…

You know when you decide to just run to the store for one thing and you think you can stealthily sneak in and out? Let’s say, hypothetically, you don’t have a stitch of make up on, you’re wearing your ex’s over-sized flannel shirt with some indistinguishable stain down the front, with yoga pants and your hair in a french braid you shouldn’t really do at any point after the age of 19. You see where this is going…

Yep, all I needed was vanilla. Who knew the storm of the century was on its way through and half the county would be at the Hy-Vee? Approximately one third of them were my clients, the hot neighbor guy up the street and every PTA room mother I’ve ever met…all looking like they’re on their way to see Hamilton or a job interview. As I slithered back to my car and made my escape, I had a really unexpected thought. While I was mortified at my lack of grocery fashion etiquette, I realized how uplifting it was to connect with these people who had been absent from my life for the past few years. Many I haven’t seen since my daughter graduated high school and moved out into the world.

And it occurred to me why it may be harder on some people when their young ones fly away. Of course, you miss your kids and all the fun stuff that goes along with having them with your family. But it’s bigger than that. You don’t just lose the day to day presence of your child, you actually lose the whole network that comes with that. I never thought of it this way before. But the neighbor kids no longer come calling. You aren’t attending dance recitals or sports events or parent-teacher nights. The empty nest isn’t just about the home dynamic, it’s the real-world loss of your whole Mom tribe. This is especially noticeable if you have an only child or your last one is leaving.

It was just me and my daughter alone for 17 years. We were a team and very tight. A lot of my friends were worried about how I’d handle it when she left home. It was an adjustment, certainly. Sure…I had my business. I had great friends. I stayed busy. I don’t remember feeling sad that she was launching. After all, this is what we prepared them for, right? It was exciting and I was happy for her. But it was definitely different. No matter how well you adapt to the empty nest, you have to acknowledge the vacuum that happens when a huge number of the people you engage with every day suddenly evaporate. It’s not personal – and they may not even be people you’d choose to hang with of your own volition, but it’s a tangible loss. And I couldn’t put my finger on it until today.

So, tonight I toast to my Mom tribe. When we say we should get together, I know we likely never will. But I want to offer a giant hug and endless gratitude to those countless faces from my child-rearing days, whose names I won’t remember in a few years, but who offered to give my girl a ride to school or cut up oranges for the soccer team when it was my turn and I forgot. I love you all because it really does take a village. And I hope that, in some small way, I made your life easier, too.