Of Voids and Empty Nests
Voids are funny things
I
’ve often wondered what mother birds feel when their offspring are big enough to go out on their own and “fly the coop.” Does she feel distraught or depressed or need a drink or call a friend to discuss her new status of being an “empty nester”? Or does she look around, straighten the twigs, and think about a new career, or the freedom she will have to find worms without having to carry them back to feed those baby birds? Does she think about starting a new family or perhaps finding another career in the wild? (I’m not certain what alternative careers there are for female birds, but you never know….)
Which leads us to the question of human mothers facing a similar quandary. Chances are that lots of effort preceded the newly acquired status of “empty nester.” Perhaps, after she bids farewell to offspring as they leave to build their own nests, she enters a period I’ll call “straightening the nest.” Chances are that said offspring have left many possessions they promise to retrieve, supposedly, when they will have time to do some organizing — which translates to never, or when said parent announces that items left behind 30 or more years ago will be considered hefker and discarded or given to the appropriate gemach.
Human Mother may feel much nostalgia as she looks at the empty bedrooms, even as said offspring come back for Shabbos, eventually bringing along a new “child by marriage” to whom you can’t serve the frozen leftover kugel from the previous Yom Tov. This necessitates a major pre-Shabbos cooking marathon so everything is fresh and exciting.
The time to relish or dread the concept of the empty nest is often fairly short-lived.
Married offspring who return to visit need a very different form of parenting from those still in the nest! Mother must learn to hold her tongue. Inquiries about where the newly married couple plans to spend the upcoming holiday, summer, or the remainder of their married lives may not be appreciated, even though her interest (and any unsolicited advice) is motivated entirely for the benefit of the newly married children. The free time engendered by this new status of “empty nest” mustn’t be devoted, in even the remotest of ways, to making a plan for the new couple!
I might add that, for better or for worse, this lack of appreciation for parents’ wisdom and advice is no less appreciated even when the next stage of life begins and the married children, adults in their own right, create a new generation that need raising.
Even women with careers in addition to their mothering responsibilities may find that this new status of “empty nester” leaves a serious vacuum now that they’re no longer busy with what has occupied them for almost their entire adult life, or at least the period of parenting that started with that first cry in the delivery room. Because adult children living at home may have been independent, but there was that day-to-day trivial sense of responsibility — Did I remember to get coffee yogurt for her to take to work? Did I remind him to pick up his shirts at the cleaners? — is no longer necessary. But yes, married children do remain in one’s maternal worry bank, no matter how long married or old they are.
Voids are funny things. A diminishing of a role one has had and subconsciously expected to have forever can potentially create a sense of loss. Or a void can be perceived as an opportunity to explore new horizons, now that responsibilities that always were there have been removed, and we have so much more room to explore new avenues of interest and areas of growth.
The choice is ours.
Regarding the empty nest; sadly it could be a reminder that our presence is no longer needed, or we can revel in the joy of watching our baby birds fly off into the wild to build their own nests.
Some choices are obvious!
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 964)
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