A Different Drum: Bracing for the effects of a partially empty nest

This past year or so has been a time of trying on new sociological labels. When my mom died at the age of 89 last February, I officially became a “midlife orphan.” It’s not necessarily my preferred self-description, but the shoe certainly fits, so I might as well wear it. As a long-time, self-described “shoe person,” I recognize there’s no such thing as having too many of them.

Uh, oh. I wonder if I should read into that. But just as I was toying with the temptation of re-pondering my midlife orphan status, a friend reminded me that due to my son’s upcoming marriage within the next 30 days, I will soon inherit another sociological moniker: “empty-nester.”

Oh, goody! But I quickly pointed out I will only be a partial empty-nester, as his younger sister has not yet flown the coop. Even though I rarely see her on account of her school, work, friends and boyfriend, she still officially resides with me. That’s seems much more peri-momopausal than full, head-on momopause, and will allow for more gradual immersion into my new role as mother of at least one independent adult.

At verywellfamily.com, empty-nesters are defined as suffering from empty nest syndrome, a collection of symptoms that includes, but is not limited to a loss of purpose, frustration over lack of control, emotional distress, marital distress and anxiety about your children when they’re not around.

Hmm. Where do I stand on those counts? Maybe not as poorly as initially feared. In addition to still having one offspring at home after my son leaves, I don’t have to worry about his leaving causing distress to my non-existent marriage or between me and my non-entity significant other. I guess empty-nesting will have to wait until I get into another relationship to gum up things in that regard.

I also feel I pre-emptively stole the “loss of purpose” symptom from empty-nesting before it could steal it from me, through leaving my long-time job last fall. Nobody can rob me of the self-esteem and pride in my career accomplishments that somewhat automatically get surrendered upon one’s resignation. Take that, empty nesting! I already gave at the office. That’s just how it works and worked in advance of my son getting ready to jump nest.

Wait, perhaps what the verywellfamily people are referencing is the loss of purpose feelings they assume women encounters as mothers. But I’ve been too busy working at potty-training, leash-breaking and boundary-setting with my new puppy to mourn the lunches I won’t be making, the wounds I won’t be tending, and the socks I won’t be mending. The net amount of time freed up from giving up my “Second-Shift” (as in the Arlie Hochschild book of that name) family duties should render me more productive and purposeful in areas I find less mundane.

Verywellfamily also warns of frustration over lack of control; however, I mentally re-word that symptom to read “no longer my responsibility or problem.” Sure, I can empathize with the full-blown adult issues my nest-leaving son encounters, but it’s no longer up to me to solve or to pay for resolution of them. I’m enjoying graduating to being a sounding board versus having to hold the bottom line, which usually involves money.

I’ve never experienced much anxiety when my kids are out of my sight. Conversely, it’s given me much-needed breaks from caregiving. I never wasted our time apart worrying they’d drown, crash a car, get pregnant or arrested; I never stayed up late waiting for their arrival home. I needed my sleep worse, to deal by daylight with life’s unimagined problems.

That reduces my empty-nesting behavior to emotional distress, to which I plead guilty. I am truly going to miss having my son around daily and our deep discussions over coffee in the morning and tea in the evening. He’s well-read, insightful, caring and funny. We enjoy comparing notes before making decisions. He is also a good leftover-eater.

If this midlife orphan has done her second-shift job purposefully, said son will not become a stranger. It looks promising, as he recently proposed beginning an after-church Sunday dinner tradition. May our meals be as much about love as snagging the leftovers.

— Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived at her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com.

This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: A Different Drum: Bracing for the effects of a partially empty nest