Empty Nesters

"She's leaving home, bye, bye."

When we had our first child, my wife and I relied heavily on the book, What to Expect the First Year—which gives new parents a detailed overview of your baby's first year. Online or in bookstores, you can find a plethora of additional books with all sorts of opinions on how to successfully raise your child. Looking back in retrospect, there are two things never discussed by these experts: 1) how to get them to eat broccoli and, 2) becoming an empty nester. The latter was my concern.

Recently, my wife and I went up upstairs into my daughters' bedrooms. We stood there in silence for a moment. It made us realize how much we hate being empty nesters. The house is quiet. Too quiet. No tumult. Party time, you'd think, right? Ha! We don't go out at night. Are you kidding? No parties anywhere. What has happened? Longing for those carefree days before having kids, we realize now, is of the mind; the body has other ideas. Our friends are getting older, boring, over medicated, while whining about creaking bones as they bellow "Oy!" rising up from the couch. If any of our friends miraculously has the stamina to stay up late, we know they snuck a 5 Hour energy drink when no one was looking. No more late shows for us when we want to see a movie. More like the 11 am matinee so we can get home and nap.

Our married empty nester friends travel a lot. You’d think we'd emulate this with less baggage, yet going from the couch to the dining room is surprisingly satisfactory due to two majesty palm plants which are strategically stationed in opposite corners, and my cargo shorts and flip flops I never seem not be wearing during the four seasons. Break out the blender and you'll find me whipping up pina coladas for both of us. Truthfully, I’m happier than being on a beach where I’m contending with sand up my ass crack. It makes wiping my butt feel like I’m using sandpaper.

Oh, there are times we travel. But’s we’re frugal in our spending with retirement a few years away. We still work and once a year visit relatives and friends in Florida who, like a broken record, tell us to move there due to the lack of state taxes, warmth and sunshine. They forget to tell you about the hurricanes, tornadoes, lightening, snakes, alligators, Mar-a-Lago, lousy drivers who leave their turn signals on perpetually and the falling iguanas during a cold snap. It’s a nice place to visit outside of hurricane season, but the lack of four seasons and seeing Christmas lights on palm trees messes with my mind. If it’s not an evergreen coniferous tree (that’s a fir tree in case you weren’t sure), it doesn’t belong on it. Oh Yeah? Well, says me!

We are close with both of our daughters. Luckily, they don’t live too far away, and yet, we respect they have their own lives to lead as adults. We are also now blessed with being grandparents; this part is the greatest thing to happen to us since our daughters were born. Acting like experienced know-it-alls, we offer my daughter and son-in-law advice, which they inform us is out-of-date and “Not what they do today!” Fine with us. Good luck with the broccoli.

This part of our lives has been an ongoing adjustment. Admittedly, it affords me more time to exercise, read and write—no complaints here. My wife even has more time to kvetch. With no kids in the house, remarkably my blood pressure slowly returned to 120 over 80. My water bill has plummeted since they’re not here to take 35 minute showers. Food bills, all utility bills are down! Which ironically, it seems things are looking up.

You know what? It took us a while to realize, but becoming empty nesters isn’t such a bad thing. The kids aren’t too far away. We have FaceTime, texts and social media that keeps us close when were are not physically around them. Phone calls? Forget it. They don’t pick up, nor acknowledge a missed call. God forbid I leave a voicemail message. “Didn’t you hear mom’s message?” “Just text!” is their stock reply.

The worst part about being an empty nester is—it will never be the same as it was. The best part is—it will never be the same as it was.

THE END

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