This weekend marked a milestone for our family. My oldest son and first born child moved out of the house. He is heading back to college but this won’t be eight months away from home while he goes to school, he has his own place with his girlfriend who we love, and he has no plans to return to our house (to live anyway). I knew this day was coming and I thought I was ready. I have seen him leave for college twice before and adjusted to our time apart. He is nearly 22 years old and he’s a young man I can be very proud of. He’s responsible and mature and I know he’s ready to start his adult life. That doesn’t lessen the blow.
All weekend I had flashes of him over the years. It was like a movie playing in my head. These aren’t memories that we have in photographs or on video, they are memories that live in my head alone. I remember the moment he was first placed in my arms. He started at me with wide gray eyes and didn’t make a peep, while I stared right back thinking how beautiful he was. He was early and had to spend a few days in the special care nursery before coming back to me, and when they finally handed him over to me I remember being terrified of what the future held.
I started college when he was just five weeks old and in those first few months I would sometimes bring him to my classes with me. He seemed to know just the right time to cry and get me out of the boring classes! Soon enough he was in college day care center where I could watch him play from some of my classroom windows. When he reached the toddler years, they would take walks through the school and I would have to duck into doorways so that he wouldn’t spot me, or he would want to come with me. I loved catching a glimpse of him with his friends.
He could hold a tune before he could speak. I remember listening to him hum Barney songs with remarkable accuracy. He loved Barney when he was little, like most kids during that era, and that show revealed the musical talent that was so significant for him later on in his life. The children’s choir and the school band gave him opportunities to travel and long lasting friendships.
I recalled the toughest year with Eric, when he was three. He pushed the limits and tested my patience daily, and made me wonder if I could survive this parenting gig. If you met my stoic 22 year old now, you would be surprised at how bold and social he was when he was little, particularly during that tough year. He would yell to other diners in restaurants, demanding to know their names and what they were eating. No amount of scolding from me would stop him. He always said hello to people on the street, and even offered me up for marriage to a man about fifty years my senior.
He always made friends easily, despite his insistence of the opposite. Rarely did a month pass that he didn’t have an invitation to someone’s birthday party, and there were always friends at the door. I can picture him running outside with his blond hair blowing in the wind. He loved to be outside.
Eric had a stubborn streak (and still does). Peer pressure didn’t work on him and if he didn’t want to do something, he wasn’t going to do it. At his skating performance when he was around 7 or 8, his group was wearing pajamas and were required to lay down on the ice to pretend to sleep. He did the skating portion of the routine but when it came time to lay down, he stood tall and shook his head. There was no way he would lay on the ice.
My now husband and Eric formed quick bonds when they met. Mike asked Eric’s permission to marry me and Eric gladly gave it. The smile on his face at our wedding and the pure joy during our reception is one of my happiest memories from that day. I felt like I had finally given him the one big thing missing from his life. Soon after he became a big brother and he embraced that role too, at least the first time. By sibling number three, he felt enough was enough.
The years that followed left me remembering guitar recitals, school performances, moody teenage years and broken hearts. Learning to drive, graduating from high school and heading off to college were all huge milestones that I will never forget. I’ve learned that the milestones never stop. This weekend was the biggest one so far, but there are more to come. I just may not be first in line to hear about them anymore, and eventually I’ll get used to that.
When I’ve heard about Empty Nest Syndrome I’ve always thought it was something you experienced when all the kids are gone. Now I realize it happens in stages. Right now there is just an empty spot in my nest. I wonder if it gets easier with each child.
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