Orchids and the Empty Nest

This morning, Jack and the Boy went to hit the epic pow at Alpental where there is 34 inches of fresh snow at the top. I am not skiing after I pulled a muscle in my knee a few weeks ago. Claire-Adele is off at work.

Before they all left, Claire-Adele knocked on the shed door with a piece of paper in her hand, Jack trailing behind. (Jack was on call last night, so I slept in the shed instead being woken up every two hours by his phone. Insomnia is a bitch in my advancing age. I protect my sleep like a mother lion protects her cubs.)

"I got into Maryland," she said.

"The Honor's college and she was accepted into her major," Jack said. "You have to apply to major in Government and Politics, like you have to apply to study engineering at UW."

"Wow," I said. "Western is nice, but the opportunities for going to school in D.C. are..." I wanted to say "huge," but DJT ruined the word for me.

"Maybe she can get an internship with one of the Senators," said Jack.

"I'll need to increase my donation to Patty Murray," I said.

After Jack, the Boy and Claire-Adele left, I was watering my orchids. One of them was growing out of control, which is surprising since orchids are high maintenance, slow growth plants. This one had roots growing out from between the leaves. It had roots growing out the pot and down the side. Some of the roots stretched out and tried making a home in the pot of another orchid. Orchids thrive in small pots, but this one had had enough. Its roots were screaming to escape its cramped, plastic home.

I went in the yard to my massive stack of plastic plant pots that should be recycled but aren't. Marie Kondo would have a cow if she saw this mess on the side of my house. She is only liked 33 years old. Of course she doesn't have clutter-she hasn't been on the planet that long. I have t-shirts in my closet older than her. (Maybe not, but close enough.) Anyhow-I found an old orchid pot, brought it in and cleaned it up. I went in the basement and found some orchid bark that I bought before Marie Kondo was born, and repotted my plant into a bigger pot.

And then I started to cry. Claire-Adele is like my orchid, screaming to be on her own, needing a bigger pot.

Soon I will be a partial empty nester, left with an empty pot with no orchid.

But this won't be all bad. As Claire-Adele gains her freedom, I'll regain mine as well. In the past few weeks, I have been hanging out with some of my empty nester friends. One's daughter left for college last fall. Another has two of her three kids out of the house. These are the women who are free after work to go to movies on a weeknight or accompany me the Pacific Northwest Ballet's studio rehearsals at 4:30 p.m. on a Wednesday. Most of my mom friends can't.

Claire-Adele is now more willing to hang out with me, too. Less than twelve hours before she got her acceptance to UMD, we went to dinner downtown Friday after both of us finished work. Jack was working and the Boy was hanging out with friends. I was glad I took this chance to hang out with Claire-Adele. If we were just at home, she might have gone to her home by herself, or I would have spent time cooking dinner. At the restaurant, we had no choice but to talk. I figured I'd take advantage of these opportunities before she moves away forever, like I did from my parents. This summer, we will go to London for a week of mother-daughter bonding before she leaves. And then, I'll hang out with my new crew of other empty nesters.