Advent of the Empty Nest

“Did you remember to bring toilet paper?” I asked my oldest son Clay as we were about to haul his stuff into his new apartment.

Of course he didn’t. And that’s not all he forgot. As he prepares to begin his sophomore year of college at the University of Kentucky, perhaps at some point this morning it dawned on him that he should have started thinking about packing (and what to pack) before late yesterday afternoon.

A trip to Target is probably in his very near future (like, today). I mean, the kid can’t even get cleaned up. Apparently, while it’s a furnished apartment, it does NOT include the shower curtain, or hooks, or rings.

Had he planned a little better he probably could have talked his mother into a trip to the grocery store for a load of groceries. But no. So now he’s on his own.

And he really is on his own – a reality that’s just hit me in the past day or two. Last year when he went away for his freshman year, I knew he’d be back for the summer. He did come back, and he irked me enough to where I’m glad to see him get back into a regular routine.

Still, it’s bittersweet. This time he won’t be back.

The apartment lease is for a whole year, which means he’ll have to stay in Lexington next summer (and hopefully work and make money). And as I considered the fact that he won’t be coming home again, it occurred to me that I never went home again after my freshman year of college.

I guess the empty nest syndrome has begun. Yet I still remember so vividly the day Clay was born, his first day in day care, his first day of preschool, his days playing Knothole baseball. Those days all seem like yesterday.

Not that his younger brothers are quite so reminiscent. They’re trying to figure out which one will have dibs on Clay’s room.

Nevertheless, it’s a weird feeling to be so proud of your child, all grown up and ready to fly on his own; yet at the same time have a big hole in your heart because you know the days where you see him every day are most likely gone forever.

I’ve always known that my job as a parent is to ultimately work myself out of a job. I don’t feel that time has quite come yet. After all, I can still claim the kid as a dependent on my taxes (as I should – I just paid his tuition). Still, I realize with Clay the child-parent relationship has entered a new phase. He’s a young man now.

And to be honest, despite some of the irritations I may have with him from time to time, he did turn out pretty good. Just an all-around good kid, well-grounded, confident, and good looking if I say so myself. Oh, and he can name every World Series winner since 1965.

And while he’s all grown up now, I hope he knows that his mother will always love him, cherish him, and sometimes spoil him as she can (within reason, of course).

I’ll always be his cheerleader. I remember the year he was cut from his Knothole baseball team (a totally crappy thing that should have never happened to him) and I was so disillusioned that I wanted him to give up the game. Yet he was so determined to continue on with another team. I was so proud of his perseverance that when I took him to buy a bat I ended up buying him the most expensive bat in the store – just to boost his confidence. In the end he prevailed.

Now new challenges lie ahead, particularly with his demanding coursework. And I know he can persevere again.  His father and I support him all the way.

But there are some things he’s just going to have to learn to do for himself. Cooking and cleaning for starters. Hopefully his father and I and have given him a good foundation there.

Oddly enough, it’s the little things I worry about. As I speak, my little boy has no toilet paper. It’s no doubt a rough spot to be in. That’s just one big dilemma he’s going to have to work out for himself.