Joanne Sherman’s column: Emptied nests

Ah, September. 

Some people claim that it’s the best month out here. There are fewer tourists but most seasonal businesses are still open, there’s less traffic on the roads and not much of a line at the IGA deli. In general things have calmed down a lot.

Another reason is because many of our young adults have left for college, leaving behind parents who are only now adjusting to their new lives as empty nesters.

Our empty-nest experience was many years ago — decades! But I vividly remember what a revelation it was. Speaking for myself, I actually looked forward to having an empty nest. We had boys and I longed for less clutter and more order and organization in our home. Come on, who likes to see shoes in the middle of the living room, books on every surface and wet towels hanging from doorknobs? 

That September, when they were both off to college at the same time, was our first real taste of living in an empty nest. What a rude awakening though, to discover that they weren’t the slobs — it was us! I still feel a twinge of guilt because for years I’d blamed them. Who knew?

Right now, so many other parents are going through the empty-nest experience for the first time, and aside from “who knew?” revelations, it’s really a difficult period of adjustment. That’s why for weeks, through the end of August and well into September there are articles and videos and a whole Dr. Phil show devoted to how to cope with the departure of your sweet, nearly fully-grown darlings.

But be warned. All the experts offering advice on how to cope with the departure of one’s dear children don’t tell you that when once they depart they will try to steal everything they can manage to smuggle out of the house.

There’s a reason a home once lived in by your offspring is called an empty nest rather than a vacated nest or an adult nest or even a quiet nest. The reason is that when those crooks leave the nest they empty it. Literally.

They march out the door proudly proclaiming their maturity and independence and you get so caught up in the poignant moment you never think to inspect the boxes they’re so quick to seal shut. Do you know what’s in those boxes? Your good scissors, that’s what. And the blender and the batteries from the smoke detectors and the entire contents of the medicine cabinet.

Parents of children who have just recently moved out will comment, “Gee, it seems so different here now.” Well sure it does! Look around, the kid’s not the only

 thing missing. Also gone are lamps, various small appliances, throw rugs, the good “guest” towels, the weed wacker and your collection of beer mugs. 

Most of what these little crooks take are items you won’t realize are missing until the moment you reach for them. That’s the reason so many parents living in newly emptied nests wander through their homes with a peculiar look on their faces; a look that is often mistaken for grief. That’s not grief, that’s confusion. It’s the result of not being able to lay their hands on the duct tape they know was in the junk drawer or the digital scale or the jumper cables or the George Foreman grill.

How about that couple who spent an entire afternoon hunting for missing wine glasses (the expensive ones), the pasta machine and a brand new jar of medicated face cream? After checking the garage they discovered the tool box was gone along with the rechargeable drill. It appeared they’d been ripped off by a Gen Zer with acne; a handyman who knew his way around the kitchen. That description fit their son who’d moved out the previous week. 

When they finally went to see him in his newly furnished apartment they understood the reason he felt so at home there — they did too. Most of home was there. 

We got hit twice by the same kid. Not only did our son sneak out of the house the first time with too many of our belongings, he returned to the scene of the crime. When he said he was coming home for a long weekend we thought he was homesick. However, “isn’t that sweet” turned to “hmmmm,” when he arrived towing an empty U-Haul. Major tip-off.

While he was here we never left the house unguarded but he still managed to smuggle out, among other things, a marble top dresser, several light fixtures, fireplace equipment and a cast-iron skillet.

I was particularly upset about that skillet. It had enormous sentimental value because it had belonged to my mother. 

I stole it from her kitchen when I left the nest.