Entering Empty Nest

New Beginnings

I joined thousands of other moms this past May as we watched our children walk across a stage – a right of passage- to adulthood. And now, I join them, once again, for a more difficult journey as we take our children far from home to a new adventure that is yet to be realized. Both my son and I will face new seasons: college and empty nest. We have spent the last 18 years preparing for this moment. Yet I still don’t feel ready. Do we ever feel ready for this type of thing?  It seems so unnatural to drop your child off in a foreign place with complete strangers. It also seems so wrong to go home to an empty house.

This is my fourth and last time to do this – to pack up their things, take them to a dorm full of new faces, prepare a room as best we can to look like home, and get back in the car after a tearful hug. I’m way too familiar with the lump in my throat feeling, the gut-wrenching drive back home, and the compulsion to turn around and go back to get them.

But I have also learned that God is in this season, working in me and in him. He is helping both of us adjust to a new season and providing comfort and grace through it all. He reminds me each time of the Hannah prayer I prayed at 40 years old when I asked the Lord for him: “If you will look upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you. He will be yours for his entire lifetime.”

It's time to take him to the temple. To keep my promise and know that he is in good hands. It’s time to become an empty nester, after 32 years of having a full nest. As much as I hate that term, I guess it’s appropriate. But I can’t help but ask the Lord, now what? I’ve made a million peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, taken one hundred trips to urgent care, thousands of rides to school, and sat through countless games of baseball, soccer, and basketball.

It has been a rush to the finish line and now I am here. My friends who are a few years ahead tell me to take up a hobby, play more pickle ball, volunteer, or read a book. But what happens after the book is finished? No one tells you that.

Do you just wait for grandkids? I’m not great at waiting. So, I listen to my friends and try to water-color, read, work a puzzle, play a ton of pickle ball; I try to find a rhythm that seems so elusive. And I still haven’t found it. The watercolor does not replace my years of teaching like a perfect alternative. The puzzle does not replace the hours of planning birthday parties, helping kids through homework, or accomplishing a project at work. Trying to navigate this new season is like trying to find a location using the GPS and ending up at an empty field.

In so many ways, we seem to view this time as an act of completion and, therefore, a time to stop. But I hope that when I drop him off this week that it will be a new beginning for both of us. A time to try new things, meet new people, and pursue new careers. We are both entering unchartered waters that the Lord has faithfully prepared ahead of time. Just like the days when time seemed to stand still as I waited for him to be born, I enter this new season with anticipation and an ounce of trepidation. Instead of viewing 59 as a time to stop, I will view it as a time to begin, to reset, and to let go. To be used by the Lord in a new chapter that places me in the preface.

So many chapters to be written for both of us.