Left in the Nest

As a younger woman, I commiserated with the older ones as their children left home for flats above shops, or for study bedrooms in University Halls. Inside though, I did not expect to share their pain when the time came. Every time my children have reached a milestone that meant I wasn’t needed, I’ve enjoyed it. The moment when they learned to take the straw off the juice carton and pierce a hole, I rejoiced (the moreso when they remembered not to squeeze). When they could run an errand to the corner shop, I made full use of the new skill, and hurray for turning 18 and being able to get matches and wine. I felt no sadness when they started school, or finished school. They’ve spent plenty of summers in Cornwall at their grandparents away from us. We’ve gone on holiday without them and it’s been lovely to have them take care of the dogs. We’ve never had place settings around the dining table so unlike what happened a poem I read once, I’m not about to notice an empty chair. I’m stalwart. Unsentimental. Yeah right.


Nina leaves for Swansea Uni on Saturday, and I’m a walking chiche of a middle aged mother with offspring about to fly the nest. Everything is packed, The Uni quilt made especially for the occasion but used over the summer has been washed and mended. I’ve passed on so much advice it’s become a joke. At the supermarket checkout, we were talking about financial arrangements. She asked why a parent would rather put money on an Asda student card than hand over a cheque. I made the cashier laugh, saying it would stop her spending it on booze and fags. ‘What?’ I said to Nina and the young man who might himself be a student. ‘I know all about your mieow-mieows and your alco-pops because I read about them in the Daily Mail’. I was only kidding. Although I wish I had taught her how to cook, and worry that she can be over sensitive and accident prone, my eldest is a non-smoker, non-toker, moderate drinker of Bacardi and heavy drinker of my Diet Coke.

Truth is she’ll do fine but I’ll miss her. She sings when she does chores, wakes up early and skips down the stairs, we talk social affairs and politics and friends. She knows the good places to go for lunch, comes with me to gigs and makes the best of what isn’t to her taste. We watch chick flicks and comedy together. She tells me about cool new trends in websites and introduces me to popular turns of phrase. Who’s going to do all that with me now? Ah ha, I have a backup, my youngest, two more years of hints on keeping young then. Phew.



In extra news; Nina’s latest recommendation is the delicious if over- filling 50 track Beans on Toast album Standing on a Chair. It’s on Spotify, but I still can’t work out how to link to it. Lefties will like it.