Contemplating the empty nest

As I said “good-bye” one evening recently, I realized that for the first time in 39 years, I was living alone.

Over the past 37 years of parenting, each of my nine children have graduated from high school, gotten a job, gone to college, moved away, moved back in, gotten married and/or experienced one of the many stages of young adulthood.

Several of the grown “children” have returned for brief periods of time — between homes, buying a house, moving to the area.

The youngest moved out about three weeks ago; that was especially emotional as I realized the role I’d embraced for nearly four decades was drastically changing.

Then, the second to youngest and his wife bought a house and began moving to their new domicile.

Now, the house is quiet. The outside light is off as no one is expected to come “home” tonight. The doors are locked. (Something I rarely did as I didn’t know who might be dropping by and needing in.)

It’s an especially strange sensation.

On the one hand, I enjoy (or think I enjoy) peace and quiet, classical music and reading. But, on the other hand, I haven’t experienced that much over the past four decades and may find that I may not enjoy it as much as I think I will. (Remember the adage: The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.)

What I thought my life would look like when I was in my 60s isn’t at all what I had imagined and certainly does not replicate that of my mother or grandmother. Grandmother was busy with painting, bridge parties and world travel. Mother was busy with another new career, world travel and raising goats.

I don’t feel that I’m as old as I thought my grandmother was at my age. I didn’t think she was antiquated, but she was well respected and mature. But, my children and grandchildren probably think I am a dinosaur.

I do know this, that although the hands on portion of parenting is over, my life is not over. As long as I draw breath, I have purpose. I can, and will, still encourage, exhort, help, pray for my children and grandchildren and offer counsel when it’s wanted.

I doubt I’ll take up bridge, but I may return to smocking and sewing. And maybe I’ll have time to enhance gardening skills. Who knows? I may broaden my education. Some say you can “teach an old dog new tricks.”

Editor’s note: Annette Beard is the managing editor of The Times of Northeast Benton County, chosen the best small weekly newspaper in Arkansas for five years. A native of Louisiana, she moved to northwest Arkansas in 1980 to work for the Benton County Daily Record. She has nine children, six sonsin-law, a daughter-in-law, nine grandsons, four granddaughters and two more granddaughters due soon. The opinions expressed are those of the author. She can be reached at abeard@ nwaonline.com.