I just read an article about a woman who suffered terribly from empty nest syndrome. She became depressed and suffered other physical effects. She wandered through the house bemoaning the emptiness. She tried to shake it off but she was unable to do so, and eventually, and correctly, she sought professional help. The poor woman suffered from that, and the onset of menopause at the same time. Over time, with support of medical professionals, she made changes in her life. She redecorated the kids’ rooms and started to involve herself in hobbies and group activities. Things got better.

I cannot relate at all. I understand the sentiment and the feelings, but I didn’t feel sadness at having no kids around. Perhaps it was because we were so young when both our kids were gone. Son Number Two left for university in September of 2003. We were 44, well, Dale was 44 and I turned 44 the end of September. We were both working full time and had hobbies and activities we enjoyed alone and together. Having no kids at home meant we didn’t have to rush after work to cook supper, or to get a child to or from an event. We teased the kids that we had taken up naked ping pong, but that would have been more sad (and funny at the same time) than erotic. The kids popped home now and then. And we visited them or picked them up to take them on weekend breaks. But once they left, they were pretty much gone. They worked or took classes, or did both over the summer breaks and became fully functioning adults who only occasionally needed the expertise and finances of mom and dad.

I love my kids. I loved them in all the stages of their lives. But I wasn’t a stay-at-home mom. I needed to work. I felt more myself when I could be a working mom. And it was sometimes hard. I remember waving at Dale as he arrived home after work to pick up one child to take him to soccer as I was heading out with the other. Ships that pass in the night. I remember sitting marking notebooks or tests at the hockey rink. And I remember being so tired I crawled into the backseat of the car and slept instead of watching a sporting event; track, cross-country or soccer, something outside. But the four months I was at home with Son Number One were the longest four months of my life. With Son Number Two my maternity leave was over the summer so although it was almost the same length it passed faster, and of course, I had Son Number One too, so I was busier.

By the time I was ready to stop working, the kids had been gone for years. And we moved so much their rooms were long gone, replaced by guest rooms they would commandeer when they came home. So there was no sadness at walking by rooms that reminded us painfully of them. Of course I missed them when they were gone. But when they left after a visit, I was ready to have them go. When kids come home, they revert back to family roles. They were more than happy to veg all weekend while Mom cooked and did laundry and Dad did routine maintenance on their cars and cleaned them. And we didn’t begrudge doing that, because we knew in a few days we’d be back to our regular just us routine.

I wonder how women who struggled with empty nest syndrome defined themselves. Was mom at the top of their list? It was never at the top of mine. I had a family doctor who told me Dale and I were a couple before kids and we needed to work hard to still be a couple after the kids left. I always remembered that. “Mom” was one of my identifiers, but not the only one and it was never the most important one, No judgement on those women who do have it at the top of their list and who stay home. In a ideal world, we would value, recognize and celebrate all choices, including never having children.

So as I said, i can’t relate to the people who bemoan their empty nest. I loved raising our boys, and I didn’t mind when they left. And now, they rarely visit for more than a day because we live in the same area. But when Dale finally retires and we buy our retirement home, it will have at least three bedrooms – one for us and one each for the boys and their wives. And there will be a large area – downstairs, on the covered deck, over the garage, in the living room or even in the backyard – where the grandkids can have slumber parties, perhaps in a tent. And we might just join them there, because when they leave, we can go back to our regular just us routine.