1996 was my year from hell...My husband got temporarily transferred to the other end of the state, my son left for the army and my daughter left for college. That left me by myself with my business. To make matters worse, despite the old adage "absence makes the heart grow fonder," the marriage almost didn't survive.

My salvation? Scrapbooking...I know it seems simplistic, but the very act of getting out all the boxes of pictures and memorabilia, getting them sorted chronologically, and getting them put into beautifully decorated albums was restorative. As I journaled what I could remember about the times of our lives, relived the joy and the heartbreak, I became determined to hold the marriage together and make sure that the kids remembered that no matter where they went in life, their family should be at the core of it.

As each would visit, I'd bring out my labor of love and we'd pour over the pages, laughing and crying as appropriate. Each time they would come home they'd ask to see the latest pages. My husband decided the history was worth preserving.

Now, 12 years later, we all live within 2 miles of each other, our lives entwined...the marriage repaired, both children married, and a new generation having entered the world...more involved in each other's lives than ever...by choice. I've never been happier in my life.

Hang in there, Jan. I contend that they don't need you less, just different. There's a great life on the other side...

Thanks for sharing...

Children are the whole point, being the future, which is the only reason to give a damn about anything.

That said, I like it when mine show up, although I know they have to make a new life without me.

CD --
Empty nest is something we think we will enjoy and when it occurs we are knocked down by the hollow echo chamber of it.
It took me a long time to get over it, but I think I learned some things in the process that might be helpful:
1) TheraP suggested sitting with your feelings and she is surely right. I would take that one step further and urge you to go ahead and grieve for a while; sob your heart out when you're at home and it strikes you, as the effort to bottle it up will almost surely result in spillovers when you least expect it, when it can be not only dismaying but sometimes embarrassing -- at work, for example, or on the date you will have. Not good. So treat yourself to kleenex in every room now and have at it.
2) Gradually allow yourself to see alone time in an empty house as a gift of peace and order you earned. I say allow yourself because, in hindsight, I experienced the initial moments of pleasure in the tranquility as causes for guilt, as if even a moment's pleasure was somehow being disloyal to my son.
I admit that this part of the process took me years: a) because I am a slow learner; and b) because I secretly quite liked the loud music and rampant disorder. In fact, when my son's friends TPd the house, I was vaguely charmed by the effect; it reminded me of Christo, the artist who wraps buildings and fields.
But I digress. The point is that there will be that turning point day when, without feeling disloyal, you will be pleased to note that, for example, only one container of juice in the fridge is open at a time. And that the consistent absence of moldering piles of athletic socks is not, in fact, a loss to your quality of life. Etc.
3) Look forward to spontaneous outbreaks of affection from your children, which will now become even more meaningful and therefore bring you greater pleasure. So that the mild glow you felt from a "Love ya, Mom" when they still home, but dashing out the door, becomes a moment of real joy when it comes from a distance. It means they are actually thinking about you, and missing you, not just offering an exit line.
Hope this helps, a bit.
As to sorting your house, absolutely call in your chits with your most outspoken friends and demand their participation with a promise of reciprocity. You simply can't do it alone; it's too depressing. Much better to be surrounded by friends who have your best interests at heart, who are therefore perfectly willing to firmly suggest that they throw out an object you think you treasure, but the contemplation of which will cause you to lose ground and prolong the agony.
If you're not ready for that, damn the cost and rent a big storage unit so you can start fresh in your new empty nest life. Pack your history with your friends while you drink good wine, then hire a mover and have him take it all to storage, while you go to the appointment you cleverly made for a massage, manicure and pedicure.
Or do none of these things.... except to give yourself permission to do it your way, whatever way that is.
I'll be thinking of you, Jan. I have enormous respect for your intelligence, moral compass without righteousness, and real wit. Just repeat after me " I know that it's actually good on the other side...."

CVille: It is much harder than we thought it would be isn't it? When my youngest left in August for his freshman year I could not believe how painful it was. My three boys have exited slowly, the first in 2003 to West Point (he's now in Kabul), the second is now a junior in college, and the last is gone off for his first year. I can only say two things that might help. First, stay in touch with all of them constantly. I learned how to IM years ago since that was the easiest way to keep up with them. I don't worry about whether I'm bothering them--they will tell me if I am. I think you do have to work harder with boys than girls. Second, and you won't believe this, but after a while you get used to their absence, and when they come home, their clutter and noise and constant hunger (boys), and late nights out make you look forward (kind of a little bit almost) to their leaving (until the car pulls away and you stand there crying in the driveway). Hang in there. You have lots of company Chin up!
Kate

No kids myself, so I can't comment on a direct personal basis, still, I've seen it happen in my family. My sister's house is big and nearly empty now, with the kids off making their futures.

They remain the wonderful people they are, and they remain forward-looking.

You'll find your way, after a period of adjustment. And here's hoping you do well with it. I suspect you will.

My heart goes out to you CVille. Both of my middle aged sons live far away from me and from each other. They have busy lives of their own and don't get *home* very often. I still miss them and the family unit we had before the divorce almost 30 years ago. Perhaps being single moms makes us feel the emptiness of the nest more intensely, too.

My advice is to keep them as close as you can as long as you can and at the same time work to build your own life. You are lucky to have a girl because my experience tells me they tend to stay closer to home - not all of them of course, but as a rule. Keep us posted on your progress.

Jan, just want to add my appreciation for your refreshingly honest voice on tough topics. I'm willing to bet that you raised great kids, the kind we need in this new century. Lucky them. And thanks for staying around here at TPM, too. Lucky us!

I remember well when you went back to work; I think it was around the same time I did, too (my first kid was three back then), and I appreciated the companion piece to this one that you wrote then. I'm still a long way from an empty nest, but I see that the slow separation process has started for us, too, and I can't really imagine it ending. Thanks for sharing, and hang in there!

Stay well.

I hope coming here helps. I certainly value your comments.