I'm defunct - send help

Recommended listening: The Breeders ' Cannonball'

WE ALL move through various stages of this thing called 'life' and for those of us who are parents, there is a special kind of hell reserved for those whose kids fly the nest, bringing decades of daily purpose to a grinding halt. My nest is empty, am I defunct? Please send help! Let's have an unreasonable debate...

Mercifully, this will be a short post so those who do not have kids, do not fear. It's also not just about kids leaving the family home, but any sudden change of circumstances that can derail your sense of self and wellbeing. How do you adapt? I think I missed the life lesson on coping with sudden change and the only way I can cope is to overshare, you lucky devils.

For context, my eldest is in their last year at university and doing blindingly well - proud dad all round. They took a slightly more circuitous route to university life, working an apprenticeship for a couple of years before applying for the course they have always wanted to do. The extra couple of years served them well and, despite being referred to as 'the old man' by his flat mates for being a whole 2 years older than them, he had a bloody good work ethic, funding himself with a part-time job alongside his study. He made it through High School, but he'll be the first to acknowledge he didn't out the effort in because frankly, school felt like a day-jail rather than inspiring him. We were so pleased for him and were happy that the work experience (and parties) had prepared him as well as possible for his solo-life. Fare well! See you at Christmas and when your washing machine is broken!

My youngest has just started their university career as of yesterday, and I am broken. It's entirely of my own making. "Best Child Born Second" as I call them very much 'suffered' from second child syndrome. You've seen the memes, right? The first child is neurotically monitored, and the second child tends to just do their thing. With "Best Child Born Second" being female, as a father I have the natural, in-built, eye-twitching panic about every little thing the internet tells me is going to happen every 5 minutes. So, when they noped out of the chance of going to University to pursue a life behind the camera because their conditional offer involved 'A's in their Scottish Higher results (we don't do this A* nonsense from England - you score out of 100%...there are bands... why the feck are you making it more complicated?), we believed them and started planning for a year of them working, finding themselves and building up their confidence.

August 6th. Snot and tears. Before the postie had even got out of bed to try and think about delivering their results (youngest opted out of text results... how hipster), they had received a UCAS notification, congratulating them on securing their place at Stirling University. I cried with happiness at their happiness before the creeping realisation that they wouldn't be around for the next year finally hit me. Actually, that's a lie. I compartmentalised and over the next four weeks it slowly crept back into the light, till we dropped them off at their Uni hobbit-hole on 5th September. My eyes leaked on the way to Stirling when they played Biffy Clyro - "Space" which was an alarm bell. Then, after helping them half unpack and wandering around the campus for a bit, I forced myself to be chipper and jokey as we closed their door to leave. Their lip wobbled as I closed the door, and it took ever fibre of my being not to rush in for one last hug.

I made it to the car park before the ugly sobs and borderline hyperventilation began. Calm enough to drive after a message from my youngest told me it was alright to cry and to let it all out set me off again, I felt punches of grief getting home and seeing their teenage detritus around the house. Seeing the cats looking for their alpha cat, and realising they weren't there. This morning, looking at the neatly made bed, lacking 'Humphers' the large bear I gave to them, that is employed to stop them rolling into the wall in the night. A million little differences that reminded me that my daily role has changed. I can't physically protect them from harm or hold them when they are sad, but instead have to support them as they make their own mistakes and suffer the daggers and misfortunes that life might throw their way, bog or small. Whether it is 'normal' for people to feel like this when their kids all leave home or whether it's a reflection on my personal neurotypicality, I'm not sure, but I would absolutely equate it to a feeling of grief.

Let's grab a bit of reality for a second, now I've poured my heart out. Yes, I'm still a dad and both my kids will love and need me in different ways. Our daily routine may have changed, but we are still connected more than any other previous generation through the availability of internet communications - if anything it's going to be trickier for them as connected kids in a loving family to cut the apron strings - though the eldest is managing that really well with only gentle guidance and help from us. The world continues to turn and both our kids are on course to better their parents in gaining skills to help them do what they love alongside the invaluable experience of engaging with students from around the world. As parents, we have our flaws but generally speaking, we're a solid pass on our report card so far. Where the challenge lies, is what happens next.

For my better half, they are adjusting in a similar way and guaranteed to be miserable for the next few weeks. I feel like I have had my meltdown and can mostly get on with the ruthless compartmentalisation my mind tends to employ in any stressful situation, while it takes my better half longer to work through their grief. The new danger, that I have not had to deal with before, is the sense that life needs to change. The employer I have been with for the last 24 years has never felt as insecure as it does now and, though it frightens the bejeezus out of me, I want a new challenge. With the downgrading of one big responsibility, the end to mortgage payments approaching (year to go!) and the savings that will follow without a teenager soaking up all the hot water humanely possibly over the period of an hour in the shower, it feels like the right moment for change. But that, dear reader, is a story for another time.

Be awesome, ghosties.

#parenting #emptynest #grief