Filling Time: TwinLife Empty-Nesting

Last week started on the weekend at my parents’ house. If you have been keeping track, it’s the umpteenth time that I’ve been in PA in 2026. According to Merriam-Webster, the first known use of the word umpteenth was in 1892, but I inherited it from the Polish/Ukrainian women in my family. They usually used it in a negative connotation, but Merriam-Webster says it means “latest or last in an indefinitely numerous series,” and, as I’ve come to appreciate as I’ve travelled back and forth to PA this year, it’s a good thing, not a negative one, that my trips to PA are indefinitely numerous nowadays.

I was there to help with care after my dad’s elective knee surgery. I knew that it would make both of my parents’ lives difficult, and I’m glad I was there to help just a bit in those first 48 hours. Not only could I communicate with the nurses and doctors at the hospital with the distance of being “the daughter,” but I could also do more physical and mental labor for both of them for a few days. It was good, me being the caretaker and psychologist, giving back just a little of what they have done for me over the years.

But something about taking care of your parents is exhausting in the same way that taking care of your kids is, so when I got home, I crashed a bit. Aside from doing what needed to be done at work, I had nothing in me. No filter. No self-confidence. No chutzpah. (Another word I associate with my Nana, and after some research, I’ve figured out that the Polish word is hucpa, which is how it ultimately came to me.)

Without these portions of myself in play, I couldn’t do much but try to navigate the landmines that constantly exist with two “adult” teenagers in the house and watch mindless TV. Since I had just curated a list of shows with my M-Factor friends, I had a lot to pick from. I binged a one-season show quickly and then followed up with a 90-minute movie before I dove into a 5-season show.

So my week was filled with brainlessness until I faced my parental role once again – this time with my daughter’s wisdom teeth surgery. I took care of her, being a cheerleader to get her past her nerves, being a task master to make her take her medicine despite the fact she has never been able to swallow a pill, and being a friend at 3AM when she had to figure out how to do it again. I couldn’t do any work for two days. I was simply exhausted by the caretaking of it all. It made me question how I possibly earned tenure in my first job when I was the mom of two young children. 

Caretaking is simply exhausting, and it makes brain work harder than it should be.

Ironically, sometime during the week of me straddling two generations of care, my son walked into the house with a video of a yearling bear walking across our driveway. We have bears in our suburban neighborhood, and we have learned to deal with them over the years. He let me know that I should warn the neighbors to look out for the mama.

Fifteen minutes later, as I headed off to work, the mama approached my car as I drove slowly down the driveway. I could have been scared. She was big, after all, probably one of the biggest we have seen in our yard, but I recognized her burden at that moment. It’s hard work, letting (making) a yearling go. 

As she passed my car and wandered toward the woods following her offspring from an appropriate distance, I found myself hoping the yearling was on its way to independence. My parents helped me grow into a person who cares for others. Now I find myself caring for them in small ways while still shepherding my own children as they find their paths. That’s what filling time looks like in this stage of life. It’s not about me, but somehow, it is the core of who I am.