Nest: Devoid of Offspring

On the road with back-to-back trips (one for school, one for soccer), our son, Nick, has been gone for the past 12 days. He returned home from his senior retreat toward the end of last week, but was only in the house for a scant seven hours. He had barely enough time to shower, pack his cleats, and catch a few minutes of sleep before boarding a flight to Dallas for a week-long soccer tournament. His absence, although only temporary, has served as a pilot episode, if you will, of the long-running series scheduled to begin this September when Dennis and I will find ourselves with both of our kids away at college. Empty nest looms large on the horizon.

With our older son, Joe, already a college junior, I know from past experience that, although you miss your kids, you're mostly glad to see them spread their wings. The question remains, however, of how to spend the hours that one re-gains each week when teens are no longer dwelling under-roof.

For example, during Nick's absence, we noted fewer dirty cooking vessels in the sink, a paucity of competition for the washer/dryer, and a reduced need for groceries of all categories -- deli meat, juices, quick prep frozen foods, baked goods, etc. One notable food group exception, the broccoli inventory seemed unaffected by his departure. We also realized a downturn in trips to the drugstore/office supply/bookstore for (fill in the blanks, really) toothpaste/printer paper/the novel assigned two weeks ago in English class.

While the recent days have been restful, I can see that the life awaiting us this fall is going to take some getting used to. Twenty years of parenting is a long haul, and it's hard to remember what we did back in (do I dare say it?) the 1980s. This was before we occupied ourselves with pre-school fundraisers and playdates, and then Cub Scouts and Little League, followed by Boy Scouts and serious soccer. I suppose I could look for a full-time job now, but with such a perfect excuse in the floundering economy, seems like a wise person would milk the under-employed thing as long as possible. All the more reason I should get my hands dirty, and justify my lack of full employment by growing something edible.

To this end, we added a Santa Rosa plum tree recently, which is now bearing dozens of tiny green orbs -- baby plums in the making. About 24 tomato plants are also tucked in their beds, along with some basil and red and yellow bell peppers. The strawberries have many new flowers, which means some excellent fruit ahead if I can snatch the berries before the pests get to them. The grape vines have rejuvenated themselves after their winter siesta and are climbing vigorously.

As I write this, Nick is on his way to the Dallas airport, happy to be headed home, and we'll be happy to have him back. But his many days away have foreshadowed the not too distant future -- a life that will be both changed and ripe with possibility.