When They Go Part 1: Children Leaving and Parents Growing Up: Five Feelings That Accompany Kids Moving Out

It happened the other day. I helped my future son-in-law move my daughter’s stuff into their new apartment—their new place waiting for them after marriage and her return from Europe. No worries, he is a great kid: hard working, earnest, faithful and bright. But I couldn’t help but notice a bunch of feelings all mixed up and rolled into one going on inside of me. Was I sad, happy, nostalgic, giddy, confused, hyper, what? I knew she would be in for some big changes but what about Melanie and I? What changes are families and couples in for when the time in the home has passed? For that matter, what changes are the kids themselves in for? In part one I will speak to the changes parents may go through; in part two, the changes the kids themselves may experience. This list is more about the emotions experienced and not necessarily how all of them are acted out and responded to.

1.       A Feeling of Excitement:

I am excited! When moving boxes of my little girls stuff into her new place I can’t help but remember the time her mother and I were just starting out. We were broke, to be sure (slept on the floor for three months while we saved for a bed), but I remember feeling like a grown up—or at least a big boy: with a new wife, a job, and my (our) very own gifted or used furniture. We often say that “we didn’t know what the hell we were doing” which was true, but we also say that we were blessed, had people that loved us, and were in love with a deep commitment to each other. I think the truth of the matter is that we were certainly ready to leave home but we also knew we had our parents blessing and commitment to see our relationship through. Even though our first year/six months were probably our roughest, we loved wholly, learned tough lessons, and never once believed we would be apart.

For the kids that may not be getting married the same holds true. I can imagine that for this next journey of their lives what is sorely needed is the knowledge that what they’re doing has support and blessing. Though sometimes relationships are strained, especially with adolescents who have “figured it all out” (and say so in no uncertain terms), it is important for parents to be supportive in the “I know you can do this” sort of way. There is excitement to be had. Easy, no, exciting yes—the two can rest in the same space.

2.       A Feeling of Sadness:

I am sad, sad because I like my daughter—even if she borrows stuff without asking, blasts her music and encroaches on our space. She will be missed and I can’t help but think of her as that baby I was trying to rock to sleep as a 22 year old young father, at three o’clock in the morning, as she stared up at me, wide awake.  I am also sad because I feel like I am not done—so much more to impart and talk about. I even realize that I am sad because part of our family portrait will never look the same, that we don’t need the Suburban anymore, and that we may never be together as a family anymore the way we were when she was 12. Not only that, I am sad because I still feel like there are so many things I should have done—that if given the chance I would change, like encourage more, or be softer, or more ready with praise. I am sad because someone else will have to do that with her now and they will increase as I must decrease.

I know that so many parents don’t want to face their children moving out because of sadnesses such as these. Its part nostalgia, part departure, and part regret. But I also rest assured that, to be a good parent, it is important to reflect on things said and done and realize how we could have done them differently—or not. Even so, if parents let their sadness influence them or become the star of the show it may only serve unresolved relational needs that have long been ignored. I will have brief moments of sadness but then I will remind myself that there is much to look forward to and embrace in the coming years.

3.       A Feeling of Dread:

I guess there is some of this one as well. When I think of the feeling of dread I think of all the pit-falls, failures, bouts of crying, uncertainty, fear, heartache, poor decisions, dashed expectations, financial woes, sleepless hours, and even the boogie man—all lurking around the corner. I think of a world out there that doesn’t love her as much as I do, a world out to take advantage of young couples (or men, or women) and will feel no pity in it. I think of that time my young wife (8 months pregnant) and I gave a total stranger a ride in our 1967, porous and intermittently working, Beetle, only realizing after the fact that his darting eyes and shifty behavior should have been a sign to steer clear (I think we didn’t want to be “mean”).

I’m sure for many a parent, the wave of this feeling brings about the urge to spell out long treatises on all the difficulties they will run into and how to avoid them. But then I have to step off the ledge and counsel myself that I had to learn the same things. Even when I remind her of how to be safe she rolls her eyes and gives me the whole “I know dad”—which she doesn’t, I’m certain.  All this to say that all this dreading I am doing can, in reality, be a reflection of my own insecurities, fears, and misgivings. Do I really think she is not going to make it? Or fall into a black hole? Or bring about the collapse of the world’s financial markets? Well, no…but if she leaves her purse in her car it could be stolen! Indeed, just the way Melanie’s was many years ago—and we are still here. The bottom line is that my dread is really about me feeling better and not her—or them. Do I live by fear, or do I let go, trust in God, and even allow her all her beautiful mistakes? As I reflect, even though it caused its share of problems, I have to think that our ignorance really kept us going. After all, we really didn’t comprehend how scary the world is (or was), we just did what was needed—which is a much needed ingredient for growth and moving forward. So I will give a nod to ignorance—my old ‘friend’, and continue to pray that it be as kind to my daughter and her husband as it has been to Melanie and I.

4.       A Feeling of Confusion:

This leaves me confused. I am so because now I don’t know exactly what my role is in her life moving forward. Now to be sure, I still have a few kids living at home so I can turn all my parental energies toward them but I can imagine this confused feeling gets much more intense when all the kids have left the home. For some parents, especially mothers, the sense of confusion can be profound. This usually happens when all they have done, and wrapped their lives in, has been centered around their children—leaving a need to redefine themselves in the empty space left by them. In fact, for some couples, the strain is too great when working to raise the children has put them side-by-side for 20 plus years. When the kids leave, the stark reality of being left face-to-face is too much to bear. With this, issues of true connection and intimacy have not been dealt with and seem too uncomfortable to address now that the distraction of children are gone.

It’s true that change can be both frightening and confusing. Life is a series of creation—fall—redemption—restoration, (continual change) and the kids leaving home can present an opportunity for growth that has never been touched upon. The couples who are able to address this with their spouses (or single parents who have a good support network) will fare much better in the long run until the confusion subsides—so I keep telling myself, “this too shall pass”.

5.       A Feeling of Discovery:

Like the stages of loss: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, it takes a bit of acceptance and letting go for me to reach this stage. With the confusion sailing off into the sunset (a process for sure), I can now have the space to discover who I am, who we are (as a couple), and the potential of what I will be (a grandparent maybe!). Keeping in mind that each feeling can be a bit different for married vs. unmarried children leaving the home, I can now discover an entirely new relationship with my daughter. But this has also taken some time. For the past few years as she has worked, gone to school, hung out with friends, and brought home a boy—she has by degrees been pulling away (which could explain why the push back toward my extended parenting). Up until this time our relationship has been ever changing. She has, for some time, ceased to be my little girl and began to grow into more of an equal. This, of course, could not occur until she fully embraced the realities of being an adult, with all the rights and responsibilities therein. I would no more tell a 15 (or a 25) year-old whose existence is wholly dependent on their parents that they have equal footing. But at 21, she has purchased her own car, is paying her own rent, so yes, she is more of an equal than a child to me now. This leaves the channel of discovery open to both of us—where I can grow and learn from her by her discoveries and by me letting her go that she might make them.

So, she is ready—and I am getting there, I think. Periodically I hear news that perhaps a poor decision is in the offing, or something is said that I want to correct, or she is off to Europe (which is the case as I pen this). After the ‘head blow’ of fear momentarily overcomes me and I hear my more sober internal commentators counseling “regroup! Regroup man!” I take a deep breath, say a small prayer, and give an outward smile saying, “okay Gracie, I love you.’

As always, your thoughts and comments are most valuable to me. Drop me a comment on my Facebook business page Chris Oneth MFTI where you will find this, and other posts—also on chrisoneth.com.

Chris