The Vanishing: parents it's coming your way
What happens in the pre-empty nest summer? it's not what you think mums, dads, carerers.
Hi team: I wrote a piece for The Independent newspaper this week which you may not have seen so I am popping the story below if you’re about to head into the ‘last summer’ with your offspring before they head into further education. It’s a surprising summer on many levels but this may be useful to you:
“You’ve researched empty nest syndrome, you’ve read up on adolescent angst, you’ve googled ‘meanager’ (to find out why they take everything out on you after the age of 12) and maybe you think you’re even slightly ahead of the curve now you know what ‘Bruh’ means (my mate). So far so good mums, dads and carers of teens. But did you know about The Vanishing Summer? No? Well I’m here from your future to tell you about something that took us by surprise when the eldest of our four children turned 18 two years ago and prepared to leave home for University.
We knew that after we’d survived A Levels (and God speed to all of you going through that stressful time right now) she would be off celebrating, maybe she’d take a week’s holiday with friends, perhaps get a part time job and then we anticipated a gradual but traumatic (for us) untethering from the parental unit would occur in early September. We had our goodbyes ready even though nothing can quite prepare you for the actual day of diabolical departure to University or college. But what we didn’t know was that during the final summer our Number 1 child, well almost adult, would disappear, that we would simply not see her from morning to night.
And not only that we’d also not see those childhood friends of hers we’d grown so close to over the years. And even worse we’d also lose the boyfriend we adored, the one we’d welcomed into our family a year before, the one our little dog was absolutely besotted by. It was all a bit of a shock frankly.
Parenting is obviously a series of ‘letting gos’ and we expected little living losses along the way but this sudden absence of our daughter and everyone around her at such a crucial time in family life was unexpected. I thought that this particular summer would be a rite of passage for all of us as we prepared for the inevitable sadness and joy of seeing her head off out into the world, but day after day I would venture into the kitchen for a catch up with her and instead of tripping over piles of giant trainers discarded all over the floor the place would be silent and hollow. No evidence of adolescent presence.
Often I would call up to her room as I set the table for tea and there would be no answer, we were one dinner plate too many months ahead of the actual day she left for good and her place was never laid. As were having family dinner she was already on her way to Wetherspoons, to a festival, to a gathering, to her waitressing shift, to her new adult life and blimey it was busy. Her adult life diary was packed.
The five remaining members of the band were bereft, each in our own way. Me, dad, her two younger sisters aged 17 and nine and brother, aged 13, kept asking each other when we’d last seen her. She left notes or texted me her whereabouts so I was never worried but it was all very last minute. Just as her newfound independence appeared she physically disappeared from our lives for almost six weeks.
In the lead up to the vanishing summer, just ahead of A Levels, there’d been much discussion among her group of final partings with boyfriends and girlfriends. I’d overhear the weekend chat as I pottered around the kitchen clearing up the dregs of super noodle juice they’d spilt everywhere after breakfast at 3pm. Many teens, it seemed, worked out with precision how they would be splitting up over summer to avoid any awkward times at colleges and Unis, where they would inevitably be separated by 100 of miles. Only true love could survive long distance relationships and most teens in our kitchen seemed mature enough to realise the odds were not in favour of that outcome. Besides they didn’t really want that.
Of course during the vanishing summer there was drama around these partings, most of which I overheard in phone calls during the brief moments our daughter was home to change clothes or grab a shower. The course of young love never runs that smoothly, it always involves TikTok misunderstandings and the handover of borrowed headphones but some times I think I was sadder about those endings than the personalities involved in them.
So if you think the summer before your teen leaves home will be filled with final cuddles, family trips or any kind of pre-leaving bonding then I’m here to drop a ripple in the pond of parental optimism. I advise you to plan for it and grab any time you have together with all your heart. I felt cheated of my goodbyes to those central characters in her life, the MVPs of her world, and wish I’d had more time with them than just the big spaghetti Bolognese supper we had before our daughter packed her bedroom into boxes and headed to Uni to study mechanical engineering.
It may work out differently for you but for us it was like living in an endless summer of sad Carpenters songs. Now as I head into it again with my second daughter I’m braced, there’s some specific outings in the diary this summer for together time (cinema, a weekend with the grandparents, a Cornish holiday) and rainy days and Mondays won’t get me down. Good luck everyone!
Lorraine Candy is the author of “Mum, What’s Wrong With You; 101 things Only The Mothers of Teenage Girls Know” out in paperback (4th estate) BUY HERE
I’m already experiencing this. My son has asked not to come on the family holiday as he wants to go away with and spend time with his friends. It’s sad. Very sad but this is his life now. It was never enough time with him. 18 years is too short!
something else to prepare for - don't assume they will come home for every holiday, my daughter and her friends have stayed in London most of the year - I thought she's only be gone for 10 weeks at a time - heartbreaking but also reassuring that she is happy.