Boy23 has moved out. He graduated from University on Monday and drove his final load of stuff up to his partner’s apartment in Portland on Tuesday.
In September, he starts a two year program to get his ASL interpreter certification. He’s only two hours away, and he still has friends here, so it’s not like I will never see him.
But still, I have become a typical empty-nester, feeling all the grief, the loss, the quiet of it all.
I had my first child at 30, and for the vast majority of the last 36 years, I had at least one child at home.
The rational part of me points out that I’ve been here before. That I have waved goodbye many times to my kids and have survived.
I have even had two dry runs to practice and prepare for this. After the divorce, each time my youngest went to live with his father, it broke my heart.
But grief is funny. I can’t rationalize it away. Objective reasoning won’t stop the tears.
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A Batman concept that is being absolutely slept on: Bruce dealing with empty nest syndrome.
Don’t get me wrong, Bruce was (Somewhat ashamedly) relieved when Damian went to his home country to further his cultural studies, but it presented a problem that he hadn’t had in over thirty years- an empty manor with only Alfred for company. It isn’t as though he isn’t used to solitude, but it’s like wearing a shirt that’s a size too small for him- uncomfortable and restrictive. There’s no one in the cave to train with or bounce ideas off of, no one to check in on since all of his children are thoroughly capable of taking care of themselves, and no one coming to greet him when he gets home from work.
For the first few days, the solitude is a breather. The chaos of the house is gone, things are calm and orderly, and he can get everything done that he needs to in a given day, no questions asked. But after the novelty has worn off, he begins to feel the emptiness of the manor. There is no Damian to spar with in the batcave, or the sound of Jason tuning up a motorcycle. There’s no clicking of keyboards from Tim typing furiously, or the chatter of Stephanie and Cassandra echoing through the halls. There’s no Dick to banish the clouds from his mind with an infectious laugh and blinding smile.
At first, he throws himself into his work as he usually does, wielding every bit of power he has as Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and as Batman. He strikes more deals, takes more cases, meets more with the JLA. But no amount of work can distract him from that horrible hollow feeling he gets when he comes home from work to an empty home. As such, he holes up in the study most evenings with the excuse of doing his work, but is instead going through some of the family photo albums every night, reminiscing and having the occasional bourbon or scotch. And while he does attempt at times to keep up with his children, they’re often busy with their jobs, or patrol, or their own social lives, and it leaves him feeling bereft.
Alfred notices those subtle signs of depression in his master- the constant working, the lack of eating, and the creak of the floorboards of the manor as he walks the halls at night by himself. He gives it two weeks for Bruce to snap out of his funk on his own, and once he realizes that isn’t happening, he makes a phone call while Bruce is at work to Dick. As the first of his children and the one most able to open Bruce up emotionally, he knows that if anyone can get him to open up, it’s him. And after hearing of the situation, Dick agrees under the guise of coming for dinner that night.
The Bruce that greets him that night is not the one he knows. He seems genuinely delighted to see him, even pulling him into a hug when he comes into his office that evening. After getting over the initial shock, Dick soaks in the affection and begins to realize something that he’d never considered before- that perhaps he and his siblings had helped Bruce more than he had helped them, because they ensured he wasn’t lonely anymore. When Dick confronts him about his change in recent behavior, he’s surprised when Bruce readily admits to how much he misses his children.
“I didn’t choose solitude, it picked me.” He says. “And I was always fine with choosing it every time after that because it was what I knew. Until you and your brothers and sisters came along.”
Dick sits in the chair across from Bruce’s desk, and can see the loneliness and exhaustion in his face as he admits to not realizing just how much of a difference it all made until he no longer had it. As heartwarming as it is for Dick to hear that, he knows a solution is necessary. He asks to sleep in Bruce’s bed for the night for the first time in years in hopes that that might be enough to get him to sleep at least, and sure enough, it works. Bruce is out like a light for far longer than normal while Dick uses the time he’s sleeping to fill the rest of his siblings in on everything that’s happening and come up with a plan of attack together.
After that a routine is established. Everyone sends a text or gives a call on a different day of the week to check in with him. Once a week, depending on how everyone’s schedule’s work out, one or more of the kids comes to the manor for dinner or comes for patrol. And once per month, the family makes a point of having a family dinner and movie night as a way to catch up and reconnect with one another (Partners included). Bruce’s depression lifts, the bat family begins communicating more effectively, and everyone grows happier as a result.
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“After the Last Lunchbox”
for the mother whose hands are suddenly still
You packed the last lunchbox
without knowing
it was the last.
The door closed,
the car pulled away—
and time
moved too fast.
There is no parade
for this kind of goodbye,
no ceremony
for letting them fly.
Just rooms
that echo your silence,
cups in the cupboard
that don’t disappear,
and a calendar
that no longer revolves
around someone else's year.
You gave them roots.
You gave them wings.
You made a life
from the littlest things.
Now the house is whole,
but something's gone—
and you’re still here,
figuring out
how to go on.
But hear this:
You are not empty.
You are expanding—
into places you had set aside,
into hours once filled with wiping tears,
cutting crusts,
soothing cries.
Now is not a loss.
It’s a return.
To dreams you pressed down,
to a self you still yearn
to know.
You are allowed to grieve.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to feel
a little lost
in this nest.
But you are not finished.
You are not done.
You are a story
still being spun.
______
A Superb Must Have Tool for Empty Nesters Moms
Found a new antique store today. She was just setting up so there wasn’t a whole lot to look at yet, but she’s getting there. The hubs did see this old seed cleaning machine at the back of the building. It’s gigantic but he would love to disassemble it and put it in his old feed n grain store.
I was on a mission to find a green glass oil lamp for daughter’s room I’m re-doing while she’s at school, but struck out everywhere! Like 5 different places. I did find a yellow one, and her walls are a butter yellow, but I really want a pop of green. Looks like I’ll have to take the one I found on eBay.
I was successful in picking up paint for the fire screen, scratch cover for her dresser, a small trash bin for her desk/vanity, as well as a new mirror.
