Who Moved My Milestone?

Sending our son to boarding school fast-forwarded my husband and I to empty nester status. Our son was ready. We weren’t.

The text made my heart race. It hit at 5:03pm on Day 2. Earlier than I had expected, if I’m being honest.

“You available to call?”

I had been staring at the phone, double checking that I had the ringer on and that there was nothing to stop a text or call from coming through. I had even learned how to designate him as VIP so any communication would break through do not disturb mode.

Less than a second after his text, I hit that green button on my iPhone and he answered.

“Hey, Mom.”

It was my 16-year old son, who had just started his second year at boarding school. I loved the way his voice still cracked. I thought I would be used to his absence by now, however as many empty nesters have experienced, the void goes up and down in its intensity but is always lurking.

I hung on to his every word. That was in part because there were so few. I asked how school was. He informed me that it was still orientation. I asked him how orientation was and he seemed to get a little annoyed as he told me that it was the same as last year — and not that interesting. I asked a series of further questions and received short, factual answers. Then, as is the case with teenagers, the purpose of his call was revealed. He needed a fan. It was still hot out.

“You’re the best, Mom. Also, can you put more money on my school card?”

“Sure.”

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too.”

Click.

This was not the plan.

Back in the pre-pandemic “before times” I was bracing myself for a big milestone in independence: letting my then 12-year old walk the 10 blocks to and from school by himself. It felt like such a big step. He was more than ready.

Me? Not so much.

But it was going okay. He made me walk a block behind him and got annoyed if he thought the other kids could see me lurking, making sure he made it to the door of his school safely. He was supposed to text me when he arrived at school and whenever he left the building. It was inconsistent but it was improving.

I went on a business trip to Florida and while I was there, Covid started becoming a thing. He was sent home from school for 15 days to “stop the spread.”

Fast forward to 8th grade. He was attending school in person off and on. With new strains emerging, and worries of another year spent sitting on Zoom, my husband and I decided it would be better to send him to school on a campus that could be its own community. Translation: boarding school. After spending middle school online, my son was beyond ready to go to school IRL.

We found a wonderful school only a two-hour drive away; before we knew it my husband and I looked around and it was just us. Never did I think my NYC apartment would feel so big.

I’ll never forget what my brother-law, who had attended boarding school himself, said when our son first went away. “You know, he’s never really coming back. He is going to change.”

At first having him away at school felt a little like a vacation from parenthood. As anyone with a teenager knows, these years are not for the faint of heart. It is not easy waking them up and getting them out the door in the morning. With my son away, I loved the freedom of not always having to figure out what was for dinner. Homework? There was only so much I could do from afar. He had to show up for study hall and his teachers were around if he needed extra help. Our dog, Waffles, became the baby of the family. When we visited our son, it was so exciting to watch him thrive in the new environment.

But then it started to sink in. He wasn’t coming home for months. My husband and I were alone in our early emptynester-ness. Yes, our friends have kids that have gone off to college. They think it is the same, but it is not. They were following the schedule. We were way ahead of it.

Meanwhile, my friends with kids in high school locally were still in the thick of things. They saw their kids every day. They had to get home to make dinner and supervise homework. They were busy watching their kids’ sports and other activities. They were hitting totally different milestones.

After feeling the void for a year, we are finally settling into new ways to fill the white space in our lives. We are making new friends who are also empty nesters. Their kids are often in college, but the adjustments are actually not as different as I had believed them to be. They have time and the invitations are becoming more frequent as the friendships grow.

I’ll never forget what my brother-law, who had attended boarding school himself, said when our son first went away. “You know, he’s never really coming back. He is going to change.”

It was a gut punch. I didn’t want to believe it, but I know now in my heart there was truth in what he said. He is growing up and we are no longer witness to the daily changes. It still feels new and it will never be the same. But that is true of so much of our lives. Change is hard.

My friends who send their kids off to seven weeks of camp in the summers marvel at how much their kids change in the time they are away. They feel like they missed a chapter of their children’s lives. We have that fast-forwarded and on steroids. It hurts to think about.

But I also hear from parent friends about kids spending all their time in their room with the door closed, pushing their parents away to assert their independence. They get one-word answers and grunts when they try to hang on to the same relationship they had when the kids were younger. They don’t have it easy either.

Our son misses us and texts or calls us just about everyday. He tells us he appreciates the opportunities we have given to him. In many ways I feel closer to him than ever, even if sometimes those texts are simply requests to send more ramen noodles.

We have a visiting day with parent-teacher conferences a couple of months away. My husband and I have made our hotel reservations and are thinking about our next moves.

And of course, waiting by the phone.