What’s delighting me: Yesterday I went for a walk in a neighborhood pocket park where the only sound was a symphony of birds chirping and twittering. I stopped to just listen for a few moments. I even held up my phone and recorded 10 seconds of “bird zen” to send to some friends. And now I can listen to it anytime, too.
Your mom is delightful! What a great conversation--and now I feel motivated to ask my mom how it was for her. I think she was much like your mom; she didn't want to burden me, and I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that it didn't occur to me to wonder how she was doing. Like your mom said, we didn't talk about that kind of thing in the 80's. It was also awful for me when my kids left home. And the pandemic hit on year 4, when it still wasn't good, and that threw everything upside down. I'm so thankful to be in a good place now, and feeling that hopefulness you describe. (In spite of everything going on around us, we still have some hope.)
I wonder if your mom will surprise you, like mine did? Re: the overlap of the pandemic and empty nest, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to process that complexity (part of why I started this newsletter, I think). But I’m glad you feel some space and distance from that time now. I do, too, and it’s a relief, in spite of all that’s happening now. Happy to see you here, Rita — I hope your writing is going well.
1) i LOVED this. Thanks for letting me sit in on dinner with you and your mom!
2) Feat of Adulting: I've managed to go to bed with my little kid every night for all but four of the last 4 weeks in the nights she's with me. Getting that amount of sleep has TRANSFORMED the enjoyment level of my parenting. We're having a grand old time.
3) What's delighting me: lots of the planets (other than the usual venus or mars) are visible at the moment! I'm still never totally clear which ones I'm looking at (I downloaded an app but it had a LOT of non-planets on it that confused me), but the fact that in theory I am looking at some Saturn/Neptune business THRILLS me!!
2) ⭐️ sleep seems so mundane until you get a proper amount and then it feels like a miracle.
3) taking the opportunity to situate yourself in the universe — a true delight. Portland has so much cloud cover that I forget about the stars. (How sad does that sound?) I’m putting a dark sky reminder in my calendar for this summer!
Bridging season is a great name for where I am. Trying to find my way as an empty nester, navigating menopause, and saying goodbye to my mom. My mom and I did reminisce in a light hearted way and then it led to deeper conversations. We could always talk easily. I lost her in October 2024 and miss her every single day. I am thankful that I can have similar conversations with my 25 and 21 year old children. So keep up the fun with your mom!
I'm so sorry to hear about your mom's recent passing. What a gift to talk easily with her and your children...a special bridging season indeed. Aside: our kids are the same ages, so we are definitely walking parallel paths. Thanks for your comment, Jennifer.
This was the best thing I read all week. What a fantastic conversation - thank you so much for documenting it. Holy mackerel, the things we don't know about our parents because we didn't ask, and we weren't paying attention anyway because we were too busy thinking about our own emerging identities and lives. (Which is, I try to remind myself, EXACTLY where my young adults are right now...it's not about me it's not about me it's not about me)
Re: "it's not about me," isn't it something that nurturing, at this stage, often takes the form of total silence? I try not to lean on my kids for support over the missing, but I also want to be open about my feelings...tricky tricky boundaries here.
My mom was here visiting a few months ago and was here for my son's high school graduation. We had some very similar conversations when she was here. I lived at home during college, but took a year off in the middle to work in DC. The same time I moved to DC, my younger brother left for the Navy. That's when it really hit her. She says she really didn't feel like an empty nester until I went to DC, but I had to remind her that it's because my brother and I left around the same time. She was working full time, and I talked to her on the phone about once a week, so on some level it felt more gradual to her.
I'm still in the very early stages of the empty nest. My son left for college just less than a month ago. I haven't found my feet. He's not far away, but at the same time, he hasn't come home at weekends, and he doesn't spontaneously reach out, so it feels like he's on the moon. I miss him. The future feels unknowable. Will he come home for school holidays? Will he be okay? How do I plan meals/vacations/weeks without his input or participation? Day to day I do okay, but the big picture is foggy.
Thank you for sharing your convo with your mom, Heide. It's moving to hear these things, to think about the connection flowing down through generations. And I'm sending you warm thoughts as you find your feet and he gets settled into his own orbit. "Day to day I do okay, but the big picture is foggy." SO TRUE.
So I love the bridging time expression. My Mum was so unhappy at this time it affected me deeply for years to see her misery. I was the youngest, so I'm starting to travel independently and think about being a digital nomad part time. Otherwise my self esteem will wither. My husband is younger so will need to continue working but it's hard to plan for the future, can't imagine what I will want, feel. I'm frightened of feeling without a purpose but actually I'm exhausted from years of parenting a kid with additional needs
Thanks for sharing. I very much identify with the difficulty of bearing your mum's struggle. Your independent travel and maybe-digital-nomad plans are so brave! If your experience is anything like mine, the "data" you collect by *doing* will help you gain confidence and direction. I often try to think my way through difficulty, but I'm learning to pivot toward action. It's so much more grounding.
I love this conversation. I lost my mom last summer, but I really started losing her a decade ago to dementia. The last five years we really couldn't talk about her life because she didn't remember, and my life, also because of memory, but in addition she'd find something to worry over and get really stressed and fixated. Even early, before the dementia started, I always felt like she just didn't remember a lot of my childhood so that when I'd ask her questions for context with my own kids (When did I walk? When did I talk? What was my first word?) she had no idea. So I've always felt like I've been just making it up as I went along. She just wasn't the sort of person to offer advice or to reminisce about her parenting. But today in a conversation with my own daughter (home for spring break) she asked about my relationship with my husband, like "was your relationship always this good? You must have had troubles at first but I've never seen them." And we ended up having this great conversation about how to fight "fair" and how to nurture and care for a relationship. I'm so grateful to her for asking those questions. Your conversation with your mom is exactly the kind of thing I want to be able to do with my kids. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing a bit about your Mom, Tara. My dad was similar in that he was silent, solitary, and private about his own history. We were close, but not in a talking way. What a wonderful conversation with your daughter! (Pretty sweet that she can appreciate a good partnership, too.)
My parents are gone so I haven't much to add, but as others have written, I really enjoyed reading this one in particular. I wish they'd lived to see "bridging season"; I have often wondered what their observations might have been, what our conversations would have been like, and what I could have learned from them about this time of life.
I loved reading this.
Thanks, Ali.
Thank you for this! Truly a great accomplishment ❤️. Heck, even wearing not sweatpants out of the house counts!
😂 It all counts!
What’s delighting me: Yesterday I went for a walk in a neighborhood pocket park where the only sound was a symphony of birds chirping and twittering. I stopped to just listen for a few moments. I even held up my phone and recorded 10 seconds of “bird zen” to send to some friends. And now I can listen to it anytime, too.
“Bird zen.” How beautiful. And I love thinking about you listening to it again later, and extending the delight to your friends.
Your mom is delightful! What a great conversation--and now I feel motivated to ask my mom how it was for her. I think she was much like your mom; she didn't want to burden me, and I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that it didn't occur to me to wonder how she was doing. Like your mom said, we didn't talk about that kind of thing in the 80's. It was also awful for me when my kids left home. And the pandemic hit on year 4, when it still wasn't good, and that threw everything upside down. I'm so thankful to be in a good place now, and feeling that hopefulness you describe. (In spite of everything going on around us, we still have some hope.)
I wonder if your mom will surprise you, like mine did? Re: the overlap of the pandemic and empty nest, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to process that complexity (part of why I started this newsletter, I think). But I’m glad you feel some space and distance from that time now. I do, too, and it’s a relief, in spite of all that’s happening now. Happy to see you here, Rita — I hope your writing is going well.
Happy to be here. Been going through some things, so writing has been not happening. Coming back to the world again, though.
1) i LOVED this. Thanks for letting me sit in on dinner with you and your mom!
2) Feat of Adulting: I've managed to go to bed with my little kid every night for all but four of the last 4 weeks in the nights she's with me. Getting that amount of sleep has TRANSFORMED the enjoyment level of my parenting. We're having a grand old time.
3) What's delighting me: lots of the planets (other than the usual venus or mars) are visible at the moment! I'm still never totally clear which ones I'm looking at (I downloaded an app but it had a LOT of non-planets on it that confused me), but the fact that in theory I am looking at some Saturn/Neptune business THRILLS me!!
1) my mom would LOVE you.
2) ⭐️ sleep seems so mundane until you get a proper amount and then it feels like a miracle.
3) taking the opportunity to situate yourself in the universe — a true delight. Portland has so much cloud cover that I forget about the stars. (How sad does that sound?) I’m putting a dark sky reminder in my calendar for this summer!
Bridging season is a great name for where I am. Trying to find my way as an empty nester, navigating menopause, and saying goodbye to my mom. My mom and I did reminisce in a light hearted way and then it led to deeper conversations. We could always talk easily. I lost her in October 2024 and miss her every single day. I am thankful that I can have similar conversations with my 25 and 21 year old children. So keep up the fun with your mom!
I'm so sorry to hear about your mom's recent passing. What a gift to talk easily with her and your children...a special bridging season indeed. Aside: our kids are the same ages, so we are definitely walking parallel paths. Thanks for your comment, Jennifer.
This was the best thing I read all week. What a fantastic conversation - thank you so much for documenting it. Holy mackerel, the things we don't know about our parents because we didn't ask, and we weren't paying attention anyway because we were too busy thinking about our own emerging identities and lives. (Which is, I try to remind myself, EXACTLY where my young adults are right now...it's not about me it's not about me it's not about me)
I know my mantra too !
Re: "it's not about me," isn't it something that nurturing, at this stage, often takes the form of total silence? I try not to lean on my kids for support over the missing, but I also want to be open about my feelings...tricky tricky boundaries here.
My mom was here visiting a few months ago and was here for my son's high school graduation. We had some very similar conversations when she was here. I lived at home during college, but took a year off in the middle to work in DC. The same time I moved to DC, my younger brother left for the Navy. That's when it really hit her. She says she really didn't feel like an empty nester until I went to DC, but I had to remind her that it's because my brother and I left around the same time. She was working full time, and I talked to her on the phone about once a week, so on some level it felt more gradual to her.
I'm still in the very early stages of the empty nest. My son left for college just less than a month ago. I haven't found my feet. He's not far away, but at the same time, he hasn't come home at weekends, and he doesn't spontaneously reach out, so it feels like he's on the moon. I miss him. The future feels unknowable. Will he come home for school holidays? Will he be okay? How do I plan meals/vacations/weeks without his input or participation? Day to day I do okay, but the big picture is foggy.
Thank you for sharing your convo with your mom, Heide. It's moving to hear these things, to think about the connection flowing down through generations. And I'm sending you warm thoughts as you find your feet and he gets settled into his own orbit. "Day to day I do okay, but the big picture is foggy." SO TRUE.
So I love the bridging time expression. My Mum was so unhappy at this time it affected me deeply for years to see her misery. I was the youngest, so I'm starting to travel independently and think about being a digital nomad part time. Otherwise my self esteem will wither. My husband is younger so will need to continue working but it's hard to plan for the future, can't imagine what I will want, feel. I'm frightened of feeling without a purpose but actually I'm exhausted from years of parenting a kid with additional needs
Thanks for sharing. I very much identify with the difficulty of bearing your mum's struggle. Your independent travel and maybe-digital-nomad plans are so brave! If your experience is anything like mine, the "data" you collect by *doing* will help you gain confidence and direction. I often try to think my way through difficulty, but I'm learning to pivot toward action. It's so much more grounding.
I love this conversation. I lost my mom last summer, but I really started losing her a decade ago to dementia. The last five years we really couldn't talk about her life because she didn't remember, and my life, also because of memory, but in addition she'd find something to worry over and get really stressed and fixated. Even early, before the dementia started, I always felt like she just didn't remember a lot of my childhood so that when I'd ask her questions for context with my own kids (When did I walk? When did I talk? What was my first word?) she had no idea. So I've always felt like I've been just making it up as I went along. She just wasn't the sort of person to offer advice or to reminisce about her parenting. But today in a conversation with my own daughter (home for spring break) she asked about my relationship with my husband, like "was your relationship always this good? You must have had troubles at first but I've never seen them." And we ended up having this great conversation about how to fight "fair" and how to nurture and care for a relationship. I'm so grateful to her for asking those questions. Your conversation with your mom is exactly the kind of thing I want to be able to do with my kids. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing a bit about your Mom, Tara. My dad was similar in that he was silent, solitary, and private about his own history. We were close, but not in a talking way. What a wonderful conversation with your daughter! (Pretty sweet that she can appreciate a good partnership, too.)
My parents are gone so I haven't much to add, but as others have written, I really enjoyed reading this one in particular. I wish they'd lived to see "bridging season"; I have often wondered what their observations might have been, what our conversations would have been like, and what I could have learned from them about this time of life.