Empty Nest vs. Open Nest

When my second child graduated high school and left for college, I fielded several versions of the same question: “How does it feel to have an empty nest?” That question just doesn’t hit me right.

I guess I assumed that when my adult children were out of my house, I would do less parenting. But from fielding calls about making friends to advising on where to look for summer internships, I still find myself parenting from a distance every day. It is a new and slightly more complicated twist on the job of motherhood that I have been doing for the past two decades.

However, it is a twist that I am relishing. I love getting to know who these two humans are becoming as adults and I count it a privilege that they want to share their lives with me. I put a lot of work into their early years, hoping that they would grow into people I enjoy being around, and that’s exactly what they’ve done. They are each remarkable people and I find myself wanting to spend time in their presence.

As the parent of two university students, I also think a lot about the current job market. It is difficult out there for a new graduate. Although we have a strong economy and a low unemployment rate, salaries in many areas are barely enough to scrape by. And with home prices being what they are now, home ownership will not happen as quickly for my children as it did for me, regardless of their success.

This has really made me think about what it is to be an adult. In America, the pinnacle of adulthood is often defined by heading out by yourself and building a life on your own. This is what I was taught, and it was what was taught to my parents. But in learning about other cultures, it is clear that this is not a universal priority. In many Asian cultures, it is not uncommon for several generations to live together. In Africa, the extended family often lives close and experiences life together. Why is it that in the Western world, the archetype of the son living in his parents’ basement is a sure indication of his failure in life?

I want my children to feel successful, but I am willing to reconsider how to define success. Perhaps success does not always mean living far away from your family of origin; perhaps it means making wise financial decisions and taking advantage of the opportunity to save money.

Instead of considering my home an empty nest, I have decided to label ours an open nest. If my adults want to get on firm financial footing as they begin their careers and can accomplish that by sharing our home, I will welcome them with open arms. If their jobs take them to a new city, but they need a peaceful place to escape to, there will be a bed for them in their childhood home.

My young people know that their lives will always be intertwined with mine simply because I brought them into this world. But I also want them to know that I understand how hard it is to become an adult and how expensive it is to start a life. I want them to know that we are in this together and that this house will always be their home if they’d like it to be.


 

Robin Dufilho is a teacher by trade and a learner by choice. Now the Director of Operations for Polished, in the past she has worked as a consultant for various companies, helping with websites, marketing, conference planning, and data consolidation. She graduated from The University of Texas at Austin and lives with her husband, Matt, in Fredericksburg, Virginia. They are the parents of two young adults - Luke, a theater major at Christopher Newport University, and Ellie, a mechanical engineering student at Swansea University in Wales. In her free time, Robin enjoys musical theater, family travel, and complicated board games.

 
Robin Dufilho