The Empty Nest
Whether your oldest child is just about to leave home for college or other pursuits, or your youngest has gone leaving you with a truly empty nest (or you are somewhere in between), this time of children leaving home can be a time of grief for parents and for siblings who remain at home. I’m not sure we talk about this particular brand of grief enough.
Despite being a grief specialist, I am not a big cryer. Yes, I get teary when other people show emotions and when I’m touched by something. But as far as needing a good cry, it’s not usually my thing. That is why when my oldest daughter was a high school senior, and I cried almost daily, I thought something was seriously wrong with me.
My daughter was (and still is) a high achiever. She was class valedictorian and worked hard to get into her dream school — a school that was 2,288 miles away from our home, I might add. She had more awards and accolades than I could count. I was so incredibly proud of her. She was living her life in a way that all of her dreams were coming true. I was so happy for her.
And yet, I was crying every day thinking about her leaving.
And I felt so bad about that. It felt so selfish to be caught up in my feelings of not wanting her to leave when she was leaving in such a glorious way. After all, isn’t this what parents hope for? Confident, independent children who are willing to put in the work to go after what they want? I thought that’s what I wanted, but the idea of her leaving our home and family felt terrible. But she was alive and living out her dreams; how could I justify being even a little bit sad about that?
I just couldn’t shake the thought that this was the end. The end of her time in our home. The end of the six of us together as a family unit all under one roof. The end of our closeness. And I didn’t want any of those things to end. I liked the way things were, and I’ve never been a fan of endings. So, that entire time I spent beating myself up for being selfish and sad at a time when I should have been concentrating on her joy and excitement.
It wasn’t until I learned that grief comes to us in more circumstances than just death and that it is defined as the conflicting emotions that come at the end of or with a change in a familiar pattern of behavior that I realized what I was experiencing was grief. And now it makes sense. It makes sense that this significant change in our family dynamic would cause me to experience grief. Conflicting emotions mean that I can feel sad that she was leaving and excited for her new stage of life. These conflicting emotions are normal and natural, and that means I don’t have to wonder what is wrong with me for having them.
The transition from living in your home full time to having a child go out on their own is a big one — for you, your child, and their siblings. Just like your family dynamic changes a bit when you add a new baby to the household, it changes again when someone is no longer in your home full-time. It’s just not going to be the same. And if you loved the way it has been, that change can be a heartbreaker.
So, how do you manage this transition with grace while still honoring your feelings?
First, be willing to acknowledge your grief and then have compassion for yourself. When we persist in pushing our grief down to show others that we are happy, it will keep popping up until we finally choose to acknowledge it. The resistance we put up against feeling these emotions is more difficult to bear than the emotion itself. Beating yourself up for having feelings doesn’t stop the feelings and it doesn’t help us feel any better. In fact, it makes everything worse. This is a difficult part of parenting, and it’s okay that you have a lot of complicated feelings about it.
Second, talk about your feelings. Your child’s other parent may also feel similarly and fear speaking up. Open up to a friend. While not everyone feels this way about kids leaving home (I was at a bridal shower recently and asked an acquaintance about her graduating daughter, and her reply was, “I can’t wait until she leaves my house!”), and friends with kids who haven’t left home yet may not truly understand; it is not an uncommon experience to grieve this transition. Talking about it helps us feel less alone.
Don’t forget about younger siblings during these transitions. It can be tough for them to part with a beloved sibling. Make sure you are available to listen and even facilitate conversations between siblings with special one-on-one time. One of my daughters always took her younger sister to Yogurtland for a treat and some time for just the two of them. The younger siblings need to know they won’t be forgotten or brushed aside for new adventures and friends.
Third, embrace the and. You are sad they are leaving home, and you are so proud of their accomplishments. It doesn’t have to be either/or. This is hard, and it is wonderful. You can mourn the end of having your family all under one roof, and you can build an amazing long-distance relationship. Black-and-white thinking doesn’t help us much here.
After my daughter left home in August, we flew to Washington, DC, to visit her on our fall break that following October. It was a sweet reunion, and it reminded me that while she was physically not with us every day, she was still a vital part of our family. It was not awkward or strange to be back together again. Her living arrangements changed, but our love and relationship didn’t have to.
The fact that our circumstances changed (in this case, everyone living under one roof) didn’t mean we couldn’t build something really great in the new circumstances. And while it’s still been hard when each of my younger daughters has left home — one to serve a church mission in Chile, and one to college only 643 miles away, it’s been a great comfort to me to know that. It’s an especially good reminder as my youngest prepares to leave home next month for college 1500 miles away. Those relationships aren’t just lost when they move out. They change, but they can still be amazing if we are willing to embrace the new circumstances and what is in the present moment.
