I almost didn’t share this. I began writing it just for myself, hoping it would help me process what I’m going through, what I'm feeling. But if there are other mothers out there going through the same thing, perhaps knowing they’re not alone will help them too.
I have been a mother for forty-six, almost forty-seven years. Over those years, I have watched my children grow up, leave school, find jobs, meet their spouses, and leave home to live their own lives. I missed them when they left and I shed many tears, but it’s a natural part of life.
I always thought I would be all right when all of my children left home because I’ve always enjoyed my alone time. It wasn’t until my youngest daughter left that I realised maybe I wouldn’t be okay — that enjoying alone time is very different from being alone.
When she left home just over three years ago, I went through a grieving process. Her leaving was softened by the fact that a few months earlier, my eldest granddaughter — who was twenty-five at the time — had moved in. I missed my daughter terribly. She had lived at home with me for twenty-nine years. But having my granddaughter there helped ease the sadness.
Now, after living with me for the past three years, my granddaughter has moved out. Apart from her dog, whom I’m looking after for a few months while she settles into her new life overseas, I am alone.
It didn’t really hit me until the next day. This was it. She was gone, and she wasn’t coming back to live here again.
I didn’t expect to miss her so quickly. I thought it would take a week or two, the way it did when she went away on holidays or housesat for people. I was surprised by how fast it happened.
I felt like I was grieving — but how can you grieve for someone who has simply moved on to a new chapter in their life? I always thought grief only happened when you lost someone.
I had heard of Empty Nest Syndrome but never felt the need to look into it until now. I had no idea that grieving was such a big part of it.
I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to do everything, but nothing. I have so much pent-up energy that I feel like I could run a marathon, yet I also just want to curl up in a ball and cry. I have no appetite, so I’m not eating properly. I want to sleep, but I can’t — as soon as I lie down, my mind starts racing. My anxiety is so bad at times that I feel like I’m suffocating.
It’s only been a few days since she left, and I now understand that what I’m feeling is part of the grieving process many parents go through when their last child leaves home. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. This feeling — like there’s a huge hole in my chest — is awful.
I know it won’t last. I know it will take time to adjust to this new season of life. But as anyone who has grieved knows, when you’re in it, it feels like it’s never going to end.
I’m also looking ahead a few months to when my granddaughter’s dog leaves to join her overseas. I’ll grieve that loss too — obviously in a different way — but having her here has softened the blow of my granddaughter leaving.
People have suggested I get a dog of my own, which is a lovely idea. But pets are expensive. There’s the cost of desexing, yearly vaccinations, food, and the possibility of an unexpected trip to the emergency vet. I’ve seen how much it has cost my children when they’ve needed emergency care for their pets. It’s not cheap, and it’s not something I can afford.
Four of my five children now live interstate, and pets do tie you down. Yes, I could use a boarding kennel when I visit them, but that’s another added expense. As much as I love the idea of having a dog, it just isn’t a feasible option for me.
I’m sure that if I had a loving, supportive partner, this transition might feel easier. But even on my own, I am not without strength. I have raised five children, weathered many seasons of life, and I know that I can grow through this one as well.
If there are any mothers — especially single mothers — reading this, do you have any advice? How did you cope with being an empty nester? I’d truly love to hear from you. Let’s talk about it. Let’s support each other through this.
I’ll be back soon with another post — hopefully a happier one.
Until then stay safe and be kind to each other. xo Janette.
















