Adjusting to the empty nest

Karen Wils photo
Camp crew from years ago — a nice sized group to feed.

ESCANABA — Ten at the supper table,

A half-a-dozen in the back seat of the car,

A living room full of people gathered around a black and white TV,

Kids and toddlers sitting on the floor,

I grew up with people.

Family was everywhere. Way back in the 1960s and 1970s families ruled. Most households consisted of a mom, dad, six or eight kids and maybe a grandparent or two.

My family situation was a little unique. It was an extended family. Teenage aunts and uncles, my mother’s brothers and sisters lived with us in the big old house that used to be the St. Paul Boarding house.

My grandparents both died at a young age and my mother raised her younger siblings after their deaths.

She married Dad in 1956 and in no time at all, a half-a-dozen little Roses were added to the household. One by one weddings and jobs whittled away at the size of the family.

When I got married, I welcomed a lovely stepdaughter around my dinner table. My mom had a stroke in 1996, so cooking for her and Dad was helpful and fun.

Then I was blessed with a son and two years later, a daughter.

Grocery shopping, doing laundry, washing dishes and staying organized and on schedule was never easy. But it was so much fun. There was no such thing as loneliness. Laughter and constant chatter and busy hands were the name of the game.

Oh, yes there were times when I wished I could just smack one of them, but thank God, I could always go for a walk in the woods to simmer down.

Sunday supper time was a special time for our crew. Mom started the tradition many years ago by serving some of her best home-cooked meals like fried chicken, spaghetti and meatballs or roast beef on Sunday.

Through the decades many of those awesome meals were shared at camp with aunts, uncles, cousins, grandkids and friends.

The social calendar was full of events like meetings, football games, play practices, birthday parties, church events, concerts, fish fries and sleepovers. Sometimes it was nice to take a shower, not because you were dirty, but because you wanted alone time.

We had pretty leaf parties at camp, polar bear picnics along the river, campfires and many silly songs. At holiday time it often meant renting a hall and 50 or 60, three generations of people gathering.

And now suddenly, I am an empty nester. My son moved to the Ishpeming area several years ago for a job. A few weeks ago, my daughter got married.

I have never cooked for just two ever in my life. I keep wondering how come I have so few dirty towels in the laundry (young people take several showers a day). I keep leaving the light on above the kitchen sink, because it seems like someone should be out, or working late or staying up late to watch a movie.

Thank God I have the cat and the dogs to talk to. My husband is not one for much conversation, but he did ask me to pass the salt the other day.

I can fix care packages for the kids and I can freeze leftovers and I can invite everybody over for the holidays, but if you see an old lady talking to the trees, birds and lampposts, that just me adjusting to a new stage of life.

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Karen (Rose) Wils is a lifelong north Escanaba resident. Her folksy columns appear weekly in Lifestyles.