"Can it be that it was all so simple then?"

Swedish road signs, a map of the world rug, guitars, and piles represent a well-lived childhood / Photo by Deborah Lynch

Technically, my husband and I have been empty nesters for five years since our youngest left for college. It didn’t really feel like empty nesting for the first four years since my son’s and daughter’s bedrooms still held all their treasures and mess, and they came home for weekends, holidays, and summers. We renovated the family room after they left for college, adding a bar with beer taps. When they both graduated from college last spring and moved to other states for jobs, empty nesting felt real, or so I thought.Yesterday when I was cleaning out my daughter’s closet, it really became real. With each old pocketbook, stuffed animal, Groovy Girl accessory, and empty hanger that I threw out or put into a bag to give away, it began to sink in that my little girl had grown up and moved on.Three weeks ago when my son stopped by with a UHaul enroute from Arkansas to a new job in New York City, I made him spend an afternoon going through the things in his closet. He made some piles of things to keep, I collected some of his drawings to frame, he filled huge garbage bags with old tennis clothes and no longer fashionable pants, and his bedroom turned into a myriad of save/throw out stacks. Maybe it was this minefield of piles that kept me from processing that he really had left.

An American Girl doll with an orthopedic injury waits for treatment in my daughter's closet / Deborah Lynch

Cleaning out my daughter’s closet hit me harder because it represented her life from kindergarten through college. American Girl dolls sat alongside college textbooks on Accounting. Stuffed Hershey Kisses were juxtaposed with once-worn high-heeled shoes and riding pants. One plastic storage container was filled with collectible horses, another with old Halloween costumes. Next to that sat the bedding from her college dorm bed. So many memories lined the floor.In contrast, we had renovated my son’s room when he was 15, so his room had been cleaned out midway through high school and didn’t contain quite as many childhood memories. On the other hand, I helped him go through the closet on that afternoon three weeks ago, when we unearthed some significant treasures, too – more trophies and medals than I had ever realized he had collected from tennis, wrestling, running, soccer, and more, all put away in boxes. I told him I felt like I had been a bad mom that I hadn’t built him shelves to display his bounty. He assured me that wasn’t so saying none of the trophies really had meant that much. We also reminisced together over his baseball cap collection including Coca Cola caps in Russian and Japanese, Swedish caps, college caps, and many more.I’ve been in some homes where the parents keep their adult children’s rooms as shrines to the childhood they left behind. Trophies still line shelves, pennants hang over beds, Harry Potter sits on the bookcases. Behind closed doors, the childhood dreams live on.We made our children confront their memories this month because we are taking over their turf. Just as we commandeered the family room when they left for college, my husband and I decided to renovate the top floor of our house and to take over their rooms as our own. When we renovated our son’s room nine years ago, it became the nicest room in the house, with a raised maple wood ceiling with skylights and a deck off it to the roof of the house, where we can sit to listen to concerts and soak in the sun. It seemed silly to let it sit there unused. So, we’re cleaning it out and moving our bedroom furniture in. It connects to our daughter’s room, so we’re turning that into a study/dressing room complete with a vanity. We renovated their bathroom that still had sported the blue and maroon patterned swimming pool tile installed by the previous owner more than 20 years ago.Some would say we are destroying our children’s memories. I won’t deny that I sometimes have regrets about telling my mom that she could throw out boxes of my childhood keepsakes left in her attic when she moved to a new home shortly after I married and left home. I know that these childhood memories might become more precious as my adult children get older. Yet, I would say we’re helping them move forward into a less cluttered life. They will always have their memories, with or without the clutter. The nest may be empty, but now my children will have a cleaner, more modern space to fly home to.