I expected the empty nest to be a lonely and sad place. Instead, I learned that motherhood doesn’t end; it evolves.
When my youngest of four left for college, I cried for days. Someone said to me that they thought I would get used to it. That having four kids makes it easier in some strange way. It is not easier. The silence that came from the last kiddo leaving felt almost shocking. I knew that I would feel sadness, but the finality of it all was a struggle.
My husband and I had moments when we would look at each other and burst out into tears. One afternoon, we sat on the couch crying.
When each child leaves, the dynamics of the home change. We had a rowdy household. There were always doors opening and closing, and friends coming over. We laughed together and, of course, had some disagreements from time to time.
The final kiddo leaving meant the house was pin-drop quiet. Eating dinner at the table together was a bit depressing for the two of us in the first few months.
I had a hard time being OK for a while
Friends would tell me, “You’ll be fine, this is normal. You still get to have a relationship with your kids.” I knew they came from a good place when they said it, but they missed the depth of what I was feeling. I didn’t want to be “fine.” I wanted to feel like myself again. For a short time, I had a hard time envisioning that my life would be OK after they moved out.
I walked around the house asking myself questions. Who was I now? What was I supposed to do? What if my husband and I didn’t like each other now that we are alone?
My schedule suddenly became slow. There were no games to attend, and no need to stay up late to ensure they got home safely. I used to leave the family room light on at night. The first time I turned it off, knowing no one was coming home, I felt a pit in my stomach and went to bed crying.
Sitting in my home office, I recall thinking that I would have to do something for myself. But what? I have always thrown myself into work, so it seemed like the logical idea. I did focus on work for a while, and I felt empty.
I had to find a way to move forward
One afternoon, mid-sentence in talking with my husband, I burst out in tears. I couldn’t explain it, but my body felt a deep ache. I felt physical pain attached to all of the kids being gone. This was a pivotal moment in my life. I could have allowed myself to wallow in the pain, but instead, I knew I needed to make a change. I needed to find a way to move forward. If I didn’t, I would miss the good things that were unfolding right in front of me.
My husband saw I was having a hard time. So, he encouraged me to be more spontaneous. We started doing simple things like taking the convertible out with the top down. We tried new restaurants. We laughed, we played cards, took walks, tried new hobbies, and attended neighborhood get-togethers. After a period of time, I started to feel lighter. I was having fun! Something that six months earlier, I would not have expected.
I started making jewelry, crocheting, and creating art journals. I loved crocheting. I realized crocheting fulfilled a need to nurture. I made blankets for family, friends, and people in hospitals facing illness. I love picking out the yarn, creating the blanket, and delivering them.
I found ways to stay connected
Along with spending time getting reacquainted with myself, I found ways to stay connected. FaceTime calls with my grandsons are filled with giggles and stories. My kids, who are still in college, call nearly daily. They celebrate their wins and talk through their challenges. There have been broken arms, twisted ankles, and car accidents. My son, who started his own business, calls to share his wins and dreams. They still need their mother, just in a different way now.
I took a trip to spend time with my daughter when my second grandson was born. Watching my daughter step into motherhood with two children was beautiful. She was experiencing all the things I had cherished as a parent. It brought back so many memories of me as a young mother holding her.
I flew out to surprise my son on his 30th birthday. I didn’t hesitate when my daughter-in-law shared her idea with me. I planned the trip immediately and flew out to celebrate with him a couple of months later.
The hugs are different now. The bedtime stories may be gone. But holding my new grandson and being involved in their life, even through technology, showed me something. Motherhood didn’t end. It evolved into a version of itself I didn’t know was possible.
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