The dog doesn’t get it.  After the summer hubbub of camping trips, a revolving door of friends and the daily comings and goings of our family of four, the house is now impossibly quiet. I feel his pain.  The doors in the upstairs hallway are all open, my daughter’s bedrooms put on pause until they return on their next break.  We’ve made it through the first six weeks, and had our first Thanksgiving, as empty nesters.   

After I had kids, September came to signify beginnings. When the girls were young, it was the time to initiate daily structure after the indulgences of long, sunshine-filled days. Then, it heralded first days of school, with earlier bedtimes, family dinners and a return to piano and swimming lessons. With the start of middle school and the teen years came the relentless tracking and coordinating of doctor’s appointments, part-time jobs, school events, team practices, parent handoff on work travel days, friend dramas, car sharing—the list went on (and on). This year, the transition from summer to fall was very different from those during the twenty years that had come before.  

“Having a quiet house is so much better than I expected,” Claire admits. “My caveat is that I thought it would be hideous.”

“I had Labour Day circled in my mind,” remarked Claire, mom to 18-year-old twins in the Westboro neighborhood of Ottawa. “It cast a shadow over the summer.”  She said it also marked the culmination of a hectic time of dual university applications, deadline management and teen anxiety. “That part was freeing. I realized after the kids left, how much I had everyone else’s schedules running in my mind. Having a quiet house is so much better than I expected,” Claire admits.  “My caveat is that I thought it would be hideous.”

On the Saturday following Labour Day, my husband, the dog and I loaded up our recently purchased couples RV and hit the road. It was exactly what I needed.

The plan

One of the beautiful things about getting older is developing a clearer sense of yourself.  In this case, I knew that September was going to be a tough transition point and I really didn’t want to be sad in my house.  My solution was a road trip to Prince Edward Island planned for early September.  On the Saturday following Labour Day, my husband, the dog and I loaded up our recently purchased couples RV and hit the road. It was exactly what I needed. Getting out of my house and shaking off all the feelings that come with dropping your kid off at Uni helped me to turn the page on a new chapter.

My friend Deitre had a different approach. She was relying on her yoga practice to provide distraction when her youngest child Wyatt moved out to attend his first year at the University of Toronto.  “Of course, September ended up being the slowest month I ever had,” she mused. “But, I ended up dealing with the needs of my aging mother and didn’t have time to process my feelings. So, what did I do? I started painting the hallway. It was my way of spending time with myself, and an exercise in trying to accomplish something.”

Alone time

It doesn’t feel that long ago that I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without someone coming to find me.  Now, I have full days and (occasionally) nights of solitude in my house. It’s an odd reality to return to. Even more strange is realizing that a pep talk I recently gave to my youngest—encouraging her to embrace her alone time—also applies to me.  

She remembers that the learning curve that came with her empty nest required patience. “You have to reconnect with your partner and do it together. Our tolerances change as we age.

As a retired nurse, and with daughters both in their mid 30’s, Trish has successfully found her joy in a quieter house. “When the girls moved out, it was just the two of us in a very large space. I thought we would downsize, but now we have a craft room, a stamp room and still a spare room for visitors. We’ve been here for 35 years.” She remembers that the learning curve that came with her empty nest required patience. “You have to reconnect with your partner and do it together. Our tolerances change as we age.  The girls would come home and “intrude” in our space—but I realized that I have to respect the girls and the fact that they do things differently in their households. It’s give and take. My girls may have flown the coop but this will always be their home.” 

Claire is also beginning to recognize the joy of adopting a “yes” spirit when it comes to her rediscovered freedoms.  “I started an art class that I’ve wanted to do for a while but couldn’t commit to because the kids may have needed the car.  I have a list of things I’d like to do. My son had a fabulous guitar teacher, and I’d like to take a French conversation class, too. I want to do things out of my comfort zone and set an example for my kids.”

Looking forward

This year, for the first time, Trish’s daughter hosted the family Thanksgiving feast.  “We did nothing,” she said, “just brought dessert. I was so proud of her. We were all together, so I wasn’t sad that I didn’t host, I was just so proud that she was doing it.  Last Christmas Hilary wanted to learn how to do the turkey. My mom never taught me how to cook a turkey. Passing the torch makes my heart soar.” 

I’ve come to see my empty nest as a gateway to both a new arena of parenting and of personal growth. The generation before us had a different experience of parenthood. For many of them, having children started at an earlier age—perhaps without the option of birth control. Launching kids meant achieving long-awaited freedom and being able to indulge in more selfish pursuits. My decision to be a parent was intentional. I wanted to be a mom; I picked a partner who wanted to be a dad, and we’ve loved every minute of the rollercoaster that came with it. 

Being a mom has been the most fun I’ve ever had.

Was I ready for my girls to leave home? Not really.  

Being a mom has been the most fun I’ve ever had. Raising two girls from babies into adults will always be my proudest accomplishment but, right behind that is: running a half marathon, completing a book manuscript and quarterbacking a multitude of home reno projects.  Who knows what will come next? All I know for sure is that as I wander through my quiet house, it’s not emptiness that I feel.  I hear echoes of laughter in every room. I am surrounded by the familiar—all reminders of the love our family has shared.  Most exciting are the tingles of anticipation I have for all that is still to come…including the next time everyone is back in our home, together.