Stalked by the Empty Nest

Well, this is it, the moment we were all waiting for: The Day the Middle Child Moves Out.

My daughters have signed a lease on a little rental for the year of our Lord, 2019, and although I am rejoicing at this next step towards raising independent strong adults, I am also standing frozen in my closet, a blouse in each hand, traumatized at the realization that I will be the only female left in a house full of testosterone.

Ready or not, the winds of change are blowing and it’s going to take an industrial sized bottle of Febreeze to get me through.

2019 is therefore dedicated to opening some conversations. Maybe some hard ones. I need help with these feels and fuzzies. I am happy and sad and worried and proud and celebratory and lonely. My nest isn’t empty just yet. It’s ridiculous. I have a big pile of feels and nowhere to swoon.

The Forgetful Files to the rescue. Our motto is “Everything Worth Remembering” and with all of the change coming around the corner this January, we need to remember Rule Number One:

Remain Calm!

We are turning our blog into a type of forum on transitions and everyone is invited to participate in the Comment box.

Because, girlfriend therapy.

For January, let’s discuss moving house, whether across town, like my family did five years ago, or across the planet, as some of my crazy rellies have done.

Jan 6th: everyone else moving and leaving you in an empty nest
Jan 13th: moving from home to college
Jan 20th: moving from house to house
Jan 27th: moving from home to an elder care facility

I was mourning the loss of accessible auxiliary jewelry (not that I could find whatever I wanted in the drifts of her cyclone-decorated room, but the good stuff was usually on the top pile) when I heard my girls discussing their imminent move.

“You’re keeping your hair drier in your room,” said one, “I don’t need it and the bathroom is teeny tiny.”

“We need a bookshelf. That’s top of the list.”

“People have to take off their shoes in the house.”

“Yeah, and no dirty dishes left in the sink.”

It gives me great satisfaction to say, “I told you so.” Kid number three, she who will not be hangered, the Queen of Quite a Lot, the distributor of flotsam in every corner of the house, was preparing a Pre-Nup in tidy little lines.

Perspective is everything, and there is nothing like moving houses to find it.

Pro: Middle Child finally cares about tidiness.
Con: I will not have access to her cute shoes either. Argh.

Please share thoughts below on an emptying nest; they are uniquely yours, and – happily for the rest of us – universal.

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young… Psalm 84:3

The Forgetful Files is a safe, supportive space exploring different life challenges and big questions with courage, kindness, humor, and practicality. Please join the conversation by offering your unique perspective!

Sun Salutation

Alone. Silent. Close the door.
Bare feet flat, shoulders back, feel your vertebrae
How many are there?

Breathe in…one, two, three
hold it. close your eyes
release the dross back into the houseplants

Listen.

laundry humming in the distance
thoughts humming in the ears

breathe, two, three…
tip the hips, hug your liver
open the ribs and lead with your heart.

breathe.

palms together, thumbs between your breasts
life blood pulsing at each fingertip
energy collects in the god spaces between them

breathe.

Now bring out your dead.

the stones of others that you are hoarding
the muck of mistakes that need composting
thorny words that occasionally land like flies,
meaningless buzzing.

sorrow upon sorrow washing the pain of loved ones over my head
drying salty drops on my feet as the tide retreats again.

breathe.

stand up straight.
center the universe in your navel.

reach for the sky, then reach for the earth
place your burdens at His feet

rise like dawn, gathering light as you go
back to your heart, release it there

breathe.