Prelude to an Empty Nest
By Maureen Hardegree
I have seen the future, and it is now . . . sort of. This summer, my husband and I previewed what our lives will become in about two years when we morph into empty nesters. While our daughter spent her first summer away from us, I expected to miss her a lot, and I do. But my day-to-day existence changed in other ways I hadn’t imagined.
Free fashion consultations with my stylist became a thing of the past. When dear daughter was here, all I had to say was “I’ve got a meeting on Saturday,” and an hour later there would be a choice of ensembles laid out on my bed, complete with accessories. Without my daughter around, I can and very likely will wear something in public that I shouldn’t. When I do, I want to make it clear that there’s no onein this house to stop me. I can’t count on cats Pixie and Turnip Ann or my husband.
Speaking of my husband, we eat dinner together now. 
Cue choir of angels. Yes, it’s a big deal. During the school year, due to the timing of our daughter’s dance classes and my husband’s daily nursing home visits to his grandmother, we rarely share meals. I don’t know about you, but I’d heard horror stories about husbands and wives finding they had little to say to one another once the kids left. I’m so relieved that’s not the case for us.
Another shocker? The mess in the house is mine—sad but true. I have no choice but to own it. I have no teenager to blame anymore, and that, quite frankly, stinks.
One thing I can blame her for was our formerly high rate of Cheese-It consumption, which has dropped dramatically in her absence. I didn’t buy any at the grocery store this week or the two weeks before. We may be going on a whole month without Cheese-Its. It’s a wonder Kroger isn’t calling to find out why. During a normal week, I purchase two boxes, which are consumed mostly by our ballet-loving daughter. Little known fact—dancers love Cheese-Its. True, they’re tasty crackers, but I don’t as yet understand why they’re favored over the similar but differently-shaped Goldfish, which toddlers and elementary schoolers seem to prefer. Feel free to offer me your theories as to why.
I, however, don’t need any theories explaining why our cats Pixie and Turnip Ann are suddenly running away from me.
They sense my neediness. Well, Pixie also fears I’m going to dose her with laxative. Don’t get me started on having a cat that can’t poop. Furthermore, the furry beasties won’t watch “Say Yes to the Dress” with me, nor will they tell me which pair of earrings to wear or whether these slacks make my butt look bigger than usual. A simple meow would suffice, but apparently they’re not up to the challenge.
Prior to this summer, I was adamant about not texting. But having our daughter away for five weeks has changed my thinking. My husband and I have at long last surrendered and will be adding texting to our phone plan in order to communicate with our daughter, who like most teenagers of our acquaintance, prefers typing to talking. She’s always had texting on her phone, but I’ve been a hold out, believing I type enough on a regular-sized keyboard that doesn’t require me to wear readers. I swear I can have a longer conversation with her via Facebook Chat than I can talking on the phone.
Since she’s been away, what has surprised me most is how my husband and I miss having someone around to embarrass. One of the joys of living with teenagers is discovering the myriad ways you as a parent can make them cringe, especially when you’re not trying to. Things we’ve inadvertently done that have embarrassed our daughter—telling corny jokes (Wes), occasionally wearing overalls in public (Wes), often wearing the outfit you see pictured here (Wes) 
[Note the rolled up denim jacket sleeves and the hemp cap that drive her to distraction], forcing her to take a picture in front of her award-winning bracelet during the high school art show (me), writing blogs where I mention how we embarrass her (me), and spilling food on clothing at restaurants (me). I’d wear a bib, but I’m pretty sure that’s a fashion no-no. Oh, and it might embarrass her.
When author Maureen Hardegree isn’t missing her daughter, she’s writing her Ghost Handler series for Bell Bridge Books. You can visit her at her website www.maureenhardegree.com and like her on Facebook. Her current release is Hainted Love.
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