MEITUS: With son away at college, empty-nest feeling sinks in

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Now that the adult, formerly known as the teenager, is off to college, everyone has asked me the same question: "How is it being an empty-nester?"

The answer came to me first as most epiphanies do: in the grocery store. There I stood before the refrigerator case where all the juices hang out. I could pick any kind of juice I like. I could have orange juice with pulp. I could have strawberry, banana or pineapple. I could have all three.

What a revelation. What a stunning development. I could get in touch with my inner taste buds. The ones that have been hiding lo these many years. (What about the husband, you might ask? Well, tough, tough, let him buy his own orange juice.)

Then a second epiphany came to me in the bedroom. Oh, get over yourself. I'm talking about sleep. The restful kind where you're not listening for a car to pull up or a key to turn in the lock. If you've dozed your way through the past 25 years, you know what I mean. And let me add - you're probably not male.

Taking my son to college in state was a lot different from taking my daughter to college out of state. We didn't have a car in Madison, Wis., so we had to depend on the kindness of strangers to take us for must-haves like Kleenex and bottled water. This time, if he discovered a must- have, like, say, a futon - because nobody wants to sit on a bed, heaven forbid - we were moments away from the nearest must-have store. (Note to self: Must-Have is an excellent name for the chain of stores I'll found in my next life.)

My son's roommate is from another state, and I caught myself midsentence as I began to expound to his parents on how glad I was not paying out-of-state tuition.

In reality, I wasn't talking about cost as much as the advantages of living in a state where others would kill to go to college, so it wasn't as stupid as it might have sounded at first blush. When I realized what his parents were paying, I treated for lunch. Don't say I'm not a sport.

I sat on the steps of the dorm during a moving break and watched the guys and gals as they carried oversize bags and boxes. I'd suggested packing my son's clothes in a suitcase so we could wheel it into the dorm and I'd then take the suitcase home. You would have thought I'd suggested packing up a caravan of camels. Suitcases are apparently so uncool for moving that it's a wonder I wasn't struck dead just for thinking it.

I have to admit he was right. I saw very few suitcases. How do they know these things anyway? Facebook? MySpace? And who thinks of this? "Alert, alert, fellow college students, do not pack in a suitcase. You shall - and will - be branded."

I don't have a clue about what I took to college back in the day, let alone what I took it in. I have a hard time imagining myself telling my parents what they could and could not do, let alone bring or carry.

When I returned home, after a tearful goodbye (uh-huh), I made a dinner of my choice, turned on the TV to watch something I wanted to see and later collapsed into a deep sleep.

How's that empty-nester thing working out? Sadly, not very well.

When she's not laughing about how much money she's saving on tuition, Marty Meitus is the Food editor. 303-954-5229 or meitusm@RockyMountainNews.com