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26 DISCOVERMAGAZINE.COM

Sure, I Miss You. But...

How an empty nest can launch you toward the best years of your life.

BY GALADRIEL WATSON

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Six thousand, five hundred and

twenty-one days: That’s how

long I’d been living with my son when

he left home for college. I’d spooned

applesauce into his gummy mouth

when he was a baby. I’d watched him

wobble down the street on training

wheels when he was a preschooler.

I’d learned to rise on tiptoes to kiss his

stubbled cheek when he was a teenager.

For nearly 18 years, I’d been there

for the big moments and the daily

nothings. I’d fretted about him and

had fun with him. While he wasn’t

my only focus in life, he took up a big

front-and-center chunk.

We knew well in advance he’d be

leaving. My husband and I live in a

small town. With aspirations to attend

college, our son had no choice but to

pack up after high school. On Labor

Day weekend 2016, we drove four

hours to deliver him to campus.

I expected to cry.

Surprisingly, I didn’t.

His dorm room looked

clean. His roommate was

friendly. The campus had an air

of excitement. Although the final

hug was long and hard, I was more

giddy than tearful. Almost jealous.

My son was starting an adventure.

He’d do well.

But arriving home dampened the

enthusiasm. My son’s spot at the

dinner table was empty. His mattress

was bare. It was bedtime and I hadn’t

wished him good night: Should I text

him or give him some space?

What would I do without my son?

THE WEIGHT OF ABSENCE

Though our son has all but moved

out, my husband and I aren’t quite

alone yet. We still have a daughter at

home, but she’s rapidly growing up. In

a year, we expect she’ll take off, too.

Once she’s gone, physically my life

will continue with two fewer bodies

to navigate around. But after years

of mothering, what should I expect

psychologically? Will I be throwing a

party, or falling apart?

One possibility is what’s called

empty-nest syndrome, a term used

since at least the 1980s. And it’s

no walk in the park, according

to Geneviève Bouchard, an

expert in family psychology

and professor at Canada’s

Université de Moncton.

“Empty-nest syndrome is

a feeling of loneliness some

parents may feel when their

children leave home,” she tells me.

“Its top effects are a sense of loss,

stress and sadness.”

These issues particularly affect

parents who didn’t have much chance

to develop an identity outside of the

home: those who cared for their kids

full time or worked outside of the

home only occasionally. Those who

relied upon their children to give them

purpose.

When their kids leave home, these

parents experience a phenomenon

called role loss. Without being full-

time parents, they don’t know what

other roles to play. They lose their

sense of accomplishment, have fewer

social activities and get lonely.

While my kids were growing up,

I ranged from being a stay-at-home

mom to having a full-time job. I

definitely have my own interests. So

although I miss my son, I’m happier

for his gain than I am sad for my

loss. Maybe when the final daughter-

departing blow comes, empty-nest

syndrome won’t be my fate.

There is hope. Bouchard says a

number of studies have shown parents

are more satisfied with their marriages

as empty nesters than they were when

they had children at home.

One 2013 paper in The Family

Journal looked at older adults’ TOP: ALEKSEYKARPENKO/SHUTTERSTOCK. BOTTOM: GINO SANTA MARIA/SHUTTERSTOCK

But after years

of mothering,

what should I expect

psychologically once

my kids leave home?

Will I be throwing

a party, or falling

apart?

Mind

Over

Matter