Empty nesting
way that can sometimes feel frightening because, for all of my failings as a family man, I know that it is the only thing in life that is actually truly important to me.
I have been married to Melanie since May 29, 1993.
We had two years apart when the pressures of being young parents of three children, all born within threeand-a-half years, plus demanding jobs, meant that we imploded and split up.
Thankfully, after numerous sessions at Relate, Melanie and I managed to see that being together was better for us all than being apart. To me, this is the essence of being a “family” man: being part of something that is better with you being there and which makes you better, even if you sometimes don’t realise it.
There is an inevitable end to the process of being a family man.
As our boys all arrived so close together, they also left home close together, and Melanie and I were left to cope with what is known as emptynest syndrome. It’s not easy.
The first night you and your partner are sat in the house after the last child fills a bag and leaves is very strange.
You find yourself looking at each other as if to say: “Well, what now?”
All of your energies have gone into reaching this point, and now that it has arrived you don’t know what to say. The common enemy – the children – has left, and with them so has the common theme for 90 per cent of your conversations and the glue that has held you together in your common pursuit.
When they leave, it’s inevitable that you and your partner will look at each other and ask: “Well, do you want to carry on or just call it quits?”
Melanie tried to cope with empty nesting by filling the nest with rescue animals. In addition to our three dogs we now have four horses, two Shetland ponies, chickens, sheep, geese, turkeys and two female pigs, who live in the same area as the chickens.
The animals have been a great distraction. Without them, I am not sure how we would have coped with the boys leaving.
As the boys have all moved to London, we moved house to be closer to them. They have all moved back home for a month or so while they have been looking for a new flat or job.
However, it does not alter the fact that they will never live permanently in our home again.
We are maybe still a bit in denial about this, though, as Melanie has allocated each of them their own room in our new house. I try to say that all of those rooms are spare rooms but, in my heart, I like the fact that Daniel, Luke and Joe still have their own spaces in the family home.
Despite this, it’s still the ultimate mid-life rite of passage. We know we will never get the chance to be parents again in the way that we were.
I will never get to sit on a couch and have all three boys draped over me while we watch TV. Melanie will never have another Mother’s Day card painted in school lessons and brought home to hang on the fridge.
I can’t deny that we miss it. I would give everything for just one day where I could pretend to be a horse and have them all ride together on my back again. But I can’t. That time is passed. Today, being a family man means waiting for them to visit, and hoping that we all get on well – because it’s not easy telling a bloke in his twenties, who is bigger than you, to go to his room. ■■Extracted from How to Grow Old by John Bishop, published by Ebury Press at £20. Text © John Bishop