Cats Eye View of the Empty Nest

Julie, a Grown and Flown friend, writes: The cat has no one to wake up in our empty nest today.  We have no alarm clocks in our house to rouse us for work unless you count the one with a tail and whiskers, and she starts duty promptly at five a.m.  First she works me over; my husband is next in line.  Finally, at seven, she quietly approaches the shut door of my younger daughter and sets to work.

high school graduation, empty nest, college graduates

“MOM!  Sweetie is bothering me!”

This year our 17-year-old cat has ensured that our 18-year-old girl has been on time to school every single day.

Today, however, is different.  Our teenager, along with her older sister, is at her job in New England.  The cat is confused.  What to do?  She slept late, for one thing—first time in her life, perhaps.  I peeked in on her at seven and what did I see but a curled-up calico, fast asleep in my daughters’ bedroom.

We all have some adjustments to make to an empty nest, and our pet has made hers rather quickly.  I am trying to follow her lead.

I did not do so well when my first daughter left the nest.  Our school has a long-standing tradition called “Senior Dinner,” where a postprandial DVD of the kids from babyhood to adolescence has its world premier. I held my emotions in check until my daughter snapped onto the screen, a third grader again, interviewed about why she liked her teacher.  Then I realized with a rush that her childhood really was over and the tears cascaded through my makeup, down my fancy dress, and landed splat on my linen napkin.  Sitting next to me, my daughter squeezed my hand, the other parents looked studiously away, and I sniffled my way through the rest of the video–crying fresh, salty tears all the while, my daughter’s hand in my lap.   I was a Melting Mom.

It did not get better when I dropped her off at college, although true to form she was empathetic and strong.  There, in front of an enormous freshman dorm where 250 kids buzzed in and out like honeybees, I stood sniffling once again.  I wrapped my arms around her neck, hot tears cascading down my face.  “It’s okay, Mommy,” she purred.  “You’ll be okay,” she said, stroking my hair.

I promised myself that I would do better when my younger daughter graduated; I had two years to prepare.

Graduation  itself was a time to rise to the occasion, and for the most part I did.  At my daughters’ school,  where I work, I was allowed to hand my girls their diplomas, an emotional moment.  For my older daughter’s graduation, I felt a sense of loss as I did it, but pride too—in her as she walked like a young lady to the stage, looking radiant and beautiful—and as I took her in my arms I instinctively gave her a big kiss. I whispered, “I love you” and I could feel her squeeze me harder.  I did the same thing when I handed the diploma to her sister—and the sense of overwhelming love I felt for my girls matched the sense of love I felt for them the day they were born, but more so.  I know you know what I mean.  Mother love is a love like no other.

But today, as I sit here thinking back to graduation and my memories of it, the cat is fast asleep on my older daughter’s bed, nestled on a piece of her clothing.  She looks like she is adapting; I hope I will, too.

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Comments

  1. I wish I was as content as the Calico. Instead I feel as if I were handed a Pink Slip and told “gather your things, someone will be in shortly to escort you to the door” My son (the baby) is a Senior this year and is working a full time job this Summer…. life is different.

  2. Lovely! Brought back a memory from the music department dinner when my youngest was graduating. I held it together until the slideshow, when a picture of my two little boys, aged 3 and 5 popped up on the screen in a loving brotherly embrace. The whole auditorium went, “Awwwww” and I burst into sobs.
    Truth to tell, that photo still makes me sniff a bit.

  3. adapting – good word for people and cats

  4. bohemianspiritedmom says:

    I am waiting in the nail salon crying as I read this! Beautiful! I am just 1 year behind chica and I too, will be melting mom. I am already.

  5. its not just the cat that nestles in the bed on piece of clothing the first day in the empty nest. it may seem odd or silly to some but it does give comfort and it does make you feel just a little bit better.

  6. Teresa Cleveland Wendel says:

    Motherhood certainly is like nothing else. I love your description of yourself–the Melting Mom :o)

  7. Dianne says:

    I became a Melting Mom the min I started to read your blog. My two have be graduated since 05 and 07!! lol For the most part I kept it together as my oldest went off to College. It was the first time she flew home and I saw her walk into the airport when I started to melt. I realized how much I had missed her. My son took a couple of years to head out he was living with his Dad and working full time before doing so. I had those couple of years of him being over once in a while to ease into his moving away, yah right! The night before he was to head out he was over to say good bye. I was fine right until he gave me the big bear hug he always does before he got into his truck.

  8. Sleeping Should Be Easy says:

    Very sweet story. Hopefully mom and cat will adjust :)

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