I haven’t really thought about it yet, so it hasn’t really sunk in, but a good friend keeps reminding me that I am going to be going through a major life stage and achievement this year. Because, before the third quarter of 2026 ends, when our younger child leaves our home and country for college, my wife and I are going to be certified empty nesters.
It doesn’t feel so long ago when I first worried about becoming a parent, wondering if I could hold, bathe, and basically take care of an infant properly, pondering what stroller to buy, or weighing the pros and cons of cloth or disposable diapers. But if you come to think of it, that was already around 21 years ago, and my eldest has already spent almost 3 years in a university in Hiroshima, Japan. Now, my 18-year-old daughter is also set to graduate high school and then shortly follow the footsteps of her elder sibling.
It is almost unbelievable to think that time has flown by so quickly and we have already raised mini-adults who are leaving the home we have built as they spread their wings. I can only hope that the wings that we helped nurture are strong enough to take them higher and further than I have ever been, while at the same time that we have taught them enough to take care of themselves, because after living under the same roof for most of their lives, our kids will be about three thousand kilometers away.
The good thing about the empty nest stage during this era is that there are so many ways for a family to remain connected, if its members choose to do so and make the effort. The physical nest or house may be empty, the family can still remain as connected as they want to. In our case, when our eldest went away to university, dinner time is still spent together via video calls, whenever we are free, which it turns out is a lot of the time. We automatically turn on the video call when we have dinner, and whoever is available connects. We don’t have to actively talk, and most of the time we just listen in, or stick around for a bit before disconnecting.
I remember back in my day, leaving home meant once a week calls via expensive long distance calls, where using a payphone meant dialing 109 to get an operator, to make a collect call to my parents.
If you come to think of it, the empty nest is a significant life stage because after everything we parents do to provide the most comfortable and loving home possible, our kids ironically have to leave it to spread their wings. The paradox here is that this happens just when we feel like we are hitting our stride, when after all the struggle and the grind, careers are flourishing, relationships are established, and life seems to be getting pretty good. That level of satisfaction and comfort in our lives by then must make it doubly hard to let our charges go and strike out on their own. Such is life, I guess.
When the kids leave the nest, their parents don’t know whether or not they will still come back some day. After school, there will be work, and they end up wherever life takes them. Of course they will come home for holidays and breaks and whenever they want to, but once they leave the nest, it’s usually for good, which is ultimately for the best, if you come to think of it. It’s a bit sad, but such is life, and there are other ways to find joy as our life stages change.
If our little birds that tried to spread their wings do go back home, and our nests are filled again, should we consider it an achievement, or a failure? It probably all depends on the kind of people that return home. As long as they don’t come back as mooching dependents, it should be good. But that’s another life stage to think about, I guess.
The empty nest is something that happens to all of us. Parents can try to keep the nests always filled, but that means nobody is spreading their wings to explore the world and make their own mark. The only thing we can do is to prepare our kids, so that when they do leave the nest, we are confident that they will not just survive, but thrive. Those who don’t have that in mind as a goal from the start would see the prospect of an empty nest as something truly scary.
On my end, with both kids leaving not just our home in the province, but also the country for their university education, the empty nest does seem emptier, but I’m just hoping that our kids get to fly higher and further, knowing that whatever happens, they know that home will always be there for them, whether it is just to rest weary wings, or for coming back to for good, if that is what they want or need.*
