Empty Nest
Everyone said I’d miss him, but I don’t, not really. Well...maybe a smidge.
Mother and chick, Stoke Park, Bristol
My son has just turned 23, he’s been away for over a year now and we’re both a LOT happier. This is his 3rd time leaving home and we all hope this is it now, he might actually have flown the nest, sort of by accident this time.
His first move was all the way to Germany, lock stock and XBox with his first girlfriend. “How exciting” we all thought, but he didn’t speak the language and was stuck in the middle of bloody nowhere with her parents on a farm. It was a bit bleak. There was no testing period, he just bunged pretty much everything he owned in the back of my mates van that went ahead of him, then he flew out and that was that! It was just three weeks after my Mum had died too, so there was a lot of emotional stuff going on. I had some very panicky conversations with him during those first few days, and then he calmed and resumed his usual bedroom dwelling, gaming life out there.
I turned his room into a sewing/making space.
He lasted around a year, not too shabby. But I think he was pretty homesick most of the time. Once he decided to come back home he was able to organise a reverse engineering of the whole event with the same van, by chance coming to the UK empty for a pick up. He was pretty rudderless for a while.
I had to change his room back and somehow absorb all the extra stuff back into my bedroom.
After a while of being cajoled and encouraged and still not getting a job or knowing what to do, he moved in with his Grandparents and worked in the garage nearby, but that didn’t go too well so after a few months he returned again. It was a huge shame as the whole event seems to have caused them all to fall out. He was even MORE grumpy this time and pretty low. He did have some fun times though with his best friend and all his mates, experimenting with partying and actual socialising IRL! He also met his new girlfriend and things were starting to brighten up. She was staying with us and we had a pretty harmonious little household give or take a few gripes. Her influence made him much more helpful.
Just before lockdown he went off to Wales in a huff over something living in the loft and he got stuck there. He’s been living with his girlfriend and her parents in a small town with a fair bit of nice looking countryside to socially distance in. This seems to be a bit of a theme. It’s been good, for him and for me. He’s been living like an old man, shielding and cautious, going out very little. They’re making plans to get jobs and move into a place together once all this pandemic craziness is over. I think they might just do it too.
Hopefully I won’t have to play changing rooms again.
The thing in the loft that sounded like a badger with a chainsaw was in fact a tiny mouse, or perhaps we had a visiting squirrel. It was loud, that much I know.
I half expect him to return home again a few times before he finds his feet, who knows! It’s so hard for young people to make it these days, rents are ridiculously high and jobs are scarce and poorly paid. I really don’t want to have to convert his room back into a stinky pit again. I want him to make his way in the world, find his feet, do his own thing and be happy.
With all his adventures, I do of course worry about him, but this empty nest thing everyone went on about...I didn’t really feel it, not in the way they talk about. I didn’t wander about the house tearful and missing him and feeling like I had no purpose any more. That’s a thing apparently. Nor did I call him up every day to check in on him. For me it’s more a case of wondering how he’s doing, having occasional chats and being extremely glad we aren’t cooped up together shouting up and down the stairs, swearing, seething and sulking at each other on a daily basis. It’s all too easy for that resentment to build up and up and UP until you explode. Distance truly does make the heart grow fonder.
When I lived at home I definitely stayed too long and I also went back before I managed to move away properly. My Mum and I would argue a lot and I’d spend a fair bit of time in my room or down the pub to get away. Staying up until the wee small hours and crawling out of bed at lunchtime. I was also pretty rudderless and rebuilding my mental health after a spill, so it was tough for my Mum and me in the same way it was tough for me and my son, except with added swears. Like a pair of bleedin’ fishwives hollering up stairs for him to stop being so angry with his games and smashing holes in walls and banging his table so the whole house shook. His anger was a part of a broader depression. He tells me it was like a form of self harm, his understanding of it now is a healthy part of his growth and self development. It was a short release for all the pent up frustration he felt. It didn’t do any good of course, he knows that now and still isn’t quite sure why he did it. He’d play games loudly until the dawn chorus, making me jump at every little sound and neither of us ever sleeping quite well enough.
We get on a lot better now he’s away from the home and I think our relationship might actually be repairing now. It was just the same for me and my Mum, we had a great relationship as long as it was mostly conducted via long distance phone calls and occasional visits. And now of course we have a million ways to communicate across the miles so it’s even easier. He demands photos of the cats as he misses them more than me, even the neighbourhood cats. And he sends me pictures of him out on walks to reassure me he’s leaving the house occasionally.
Let’s hope life truly does start to return to some sort of normality, although not too much. It's very peopley out there and it makes us both worry a lot. He checks in to make sure I’m protecting myself and not going out too much and I check in with him to make sure he goes out more often.
Little yellow bruised bean, cuddles with Grandma and me.
Of course I do miss him a little bit, but I don’t miss him living at home. I wonder if I’m any good at living with anybody, I’ve never had much success at it. I’ve put in the years, the blood, sweat and tears. It’s been exhausting! We’re both ready to move on to the next part of our lives. It’s time to shift our Mother/Son relationship to the next level, a happier one.
We’ve had a couple of lovely chats recently and it makes me realise what a good person he is when we’re not stuck with each other. He’s very intelligent, evolved and broad minded. His natural urge to defend people, which he’s always had, is put to good use in the right areas. I did something right to raise such a thoughtful man. I don’t quite know how. So much of us sharing space was tied up with old, bad habits, hangovers from school, poor relationships with some family members. But since he’s been in Wales during this very strange time he’s had a chance to really blossom.
The way other people speak of it makes me feel like I should feel guilty, but I don’t, why should I? It was a hard slog, all those years of child rearing, but it’s paid off in many ways. I may not have been too strict but this gave him the space to be himself. Now he’s out there doing his own thing and I too am returning to my true self.
There are some practical implications of course; help around the house, shopping, taking the cats to the vets, practical and emotional support and funny conversations, I do miss that enormously. But I want him to fledge, stretch his wings and fly the coop. Just to really push that analogy.
I do wonder if a lot of empty nest feelings stem from suddenly being left with your partner and not knowing how to be with them, or perhaps having more than one child so the years of parenting stretch out more. Obviously those changes are huge, so being on your own is a lot easier in that respect. There were definitely some unhealthy aspects of our relationship in the home, we fought like a warring couple, we got irritated by each other far too much, we lived at different ends of the clock a lot of the time. But we also had a very clear and open channel for discussion most of the time and were honest with each other. I would hate to live in a polite house.
Gardening at Grandma's house, funny old Moo cat, grumpy boy.
Maybe I’m selfish, I don’t know, but I really do like my own space and I’m very grateful to have it back. And I know he’s glad to not have to put up with me at close quarters any more. So maybe I do miss him a bit, and I’m very much looking forward to a visit, but I absolutely love having an empty nest.
Fiction and Poetry
Written by Vonalina Cake
My name is Von, I’ve lived in Bristol since 1992 and I’ve lived a lot of lives since then.