Empty Nest (almost)

That's Britt on the left, Elissa on the right.

Last week we helped Elissa move out of the nest. We had our children early and are now looking at a completely empty nest in our mid-forties. Britt will be moving out in January as she is spending one more semester at our local college to earn enough credits to properly transfer to Sacramento State. It’s been a transforming week for us. We face the realization that she might never move back and that our job, for the most part, is finished. She’s on her own and that’s that.

Last Friday morning we emptied her room, with the help of three college-age guys, and packed her stuff into three vehicles. We took a couple of parting pictures and headed to Emeryville, about and hour’s drive away. It was strange moving her into her own apartment and getting things set up. As I put together her bed and desk my mind was filled with all the things I never taught her to do. They were guy things she was never interested in. Too late now.

Everyone left to find some food and make an IKEA run. That left me alone in the apartment to set things up. And that caused me to think of all the great memories I have of Elissa. I started to cry. I kept reminding myself that this wasn’t a funeral and that she was only an hour away. No big deal, right? Well it was a big deal. And it is a funeral. My role as a father will never be the same. Like it or not the parent company has moved me from my job of 21 years to a different department. Have I been promoted or demoted? Will we be downsizing? How are we going to pay for all this? When will I stop crying? Am I just being man-opausal?

I got the room situated and then all the ladies showed up and put their decorative touches on the room. They squabbled about what should go where and what she should do with this and that just like they do at home. I just stared at my daughter and wondered where the time went.

I hated car seats and diapers. I loved reading to the girls, “Brown bear, brown bear, what do your see? I see a green frog looking at me.” But how many times can you read those lines with interest? I loved soccer games but driving them both in different directions all day, every day, got a little tiring. And once they drove I got tired of worrying about when they would get home. But now I won’t be doing any of that.

Then came the goodbye. I had heard legends of this rite of passage from several experienced friends. I was not looking forward to it. For one, I was dealing with some emotions from the past. Only one other person from my extended family ever graduated from college. So the prospect of me even going to college and graduating was very important to my father. My dad was fighting cancer when I entered college. He was in terrible pain the day I was to move into the dorm at Northwestern. He should have stayed home but insisted on making the trip. He stayed in the car while my mother and I moved everything into my room. This really bothered him but he was in too much pain to help. When I said goodbye, he implored me to stay in school and to graduate no matter what. “Don’t give up.” He told me he was proud of me and that he would be o.k. Just a couple of months later he died while I was in school.

Take those memories into account when you realize that I would now be wishing my daughter all the best in her new life away from home. I had all these things I wanted to say but the words wouldn’t come out. I just hugged her and cried. I think she knew what I wanted to say. And I hoped with all my heart she would remember to brush her teeth on her own.

She wasn’t there more than two days when she called us. She was bored, as her classes had not started. She wanted to go to dinner and a movie. How could we resist? We made haste and rescued her from her boredom. We roamed around IKEA looking for a step stool then found dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. In the same mall we found a theater and watched the latest Cohen brothers movie. We dropped her at her apartment with more goodies and said goodbye. This goodbye was much easier.

A few days later Britt went down and brought her home for the night. I thought those two couldn’t stand each other but, as it turn out, adulthood changes sisters, too. When we dropped her off the next day Britt got out of the car and hugger her sister goodbye. I about fainted. I had heard legends about this sort of thing happening but I never imagined it would happen with my two girls. They hugged. Lord Jesus in Heaven, they hugged!

I’ve posted a couple of photos here for you to see Elissa’s new digs. We’ll keep you updated on her adventures and ours.