It’s official. As of today, the tenth day of October in the year of our Lord 2026, there are no longer any children living under my roof.
Our youngest offspring is now 18 years of age. It feels momentous.
Carlton and his fellow Gwinnett School of the Arts thespians have been staging a one-act production of “Come From Away this week, impinging on our plans to celebrate. But with a weather-related cancellation of tonight’s performance, we plan to celebrate with Carla’s Mama this afternoon and do it up big next Friday night.
Make no mistake, we are not yet empty nesters. Carlton is still very much living in our house, and our middle son, Harris, comes home from college frequently enough that his presence, while much anticipated and always enjoyed, must be accounted for in the planning of our lives. Barron, our oldest, is the only one officially out the door and adulting on his own with a job, house, fiancée and insurance (home, auto and life.)
I use the term “offspring” intentionally. My Darling Beloved and I have children, yes, but it’s weird to refer to them as such when they are driving, managing their own lives and functioning as independent people apart from us. My offspring are growing up, moving out, moving on and doing all the things we raised them to do. Now is just a moment to let it soak in as we prepare for that next stage of life.
Carlton still has many big decisions to make this year, and please don’t ask him about it. It’s a lot. One thing we know about Carlton is that he will get to where he needs to go in his timing. Whether it’s an immediate jump into postsecondary education, a gap year or entering the workforce without a plan for further education, he will figure it out. The more we ask about it, the more it feels like pressure. If we’ve learned nothing we’ve learned that pressure isn’t a healthy way to make big decisions for anyone but especially not Carlton.
What I think we’re really trying to be careful of is not to put the anxiety we are feeling about the changes in our lives on our kids. Harris has decisions to make about what he’s doing after college, and that may lead to his permanent dislocation from our house, though I can’t imagine that Lego collection is going anywhere anytime soon.
We will enjoy celebrating Barron’s and Meg’s nuptials next summer, and we always enjoy spending time with them in Athens. It feels like they have cleared a big life decision hurdle and are doing great at the moment. We’re always here for them, but parenting isn’t a daily task with Barron anymore.
With all these adults replacing the little boys we fed, clothed, sheltered and nurtured for all these years, I think we have some questions to answer for ourselves now: What’s left? What do we do with our time? When do we retire? How do we care for our parents? How do we create an inviting space that our adult children want to return to? What are we having for dinner? You know, the important life questions.
Our choices are now less about the boys and more about us. It’s been more than 25 years since that has been the case, and we’re really out of practice.
I have been able to dedicate more time to the rewrite of my novel, “Leaving Macon,” which had been languishing since I finished the first draft in 2010. As of the publication of this essay, I’m on page 419 and chapter 63 of the rewrite. It still needs a professional’s eye, but it’s closer than it’s ever been. I plan to start querying agents in the new year.
Carla has made great strides herself. She’s launching her own floral design business. She’s completed multiple floral design certifications, stayed busy filling orders for bouquets, corsages and boutonnieres this homecoming season and even worked a wedding with more opportunities on the calendar. You can get in on the ground floor of her new enterprise by following her new Instagram account or on her tried and true Facebook account.
So while we watch Carlton blow out 18 candles on his birthday cake and contemplate what lies ahead for him and our other two boys, Carla and I have a new host of issues to confront. I’m filling up journals and processing my “unique qualities” in this space each week, but so much of what is coming has to be dealt with as a team.
Carla and I have divided and conquered for so long as parents that now we have to figure out how to come back together and enjoy serenity. I’ll continue to share with y’all how it goes and if we pick up any wisdom along the way.
So light up the birthday candles and put away the childish things. It’s serious stuff around here from now on. No more childish silliness. Ever.
Especially not from me.
