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There came a time when, one by one, our kids grew up and left the nest to make their own way and begin their futures in whatever fields and endeavors they chose. Some people may be facing the same situation soon, as their graduates head to college, or the military, or a trade school, or to begin their lives, after High School/College/Training, and the homes they leave will seem/feel a bit (a lot?) emptier.
Growing up, before leaving the nest, Chasy and Chrissy had to listen to my cautions of the outside world. They had to put up with the sugarless breakfast cereals, my reservations regarding Gel shoes, and all the other things I tried to do to protect them from whatever, while still supporting them, all the while doing it (poorly in my mind) on a wing and a prayer, because I found no iron-clad parenting book, except the one living in my heart.
Because Jon, our last to leave, was so much younger than Chasy and Chrissy, he was like an only child, and he was a boy, needing less protection, as fathers sometimes think, (but wrongly, as worry never disappears for any of the kids.) Jon was indoctrinated more with sports (like father/like son), than fashions, plastic shoes, and the wiles of young men. I drilled him on respect for others, especially young ladies. Also, sports, and being around my classes/teams, allowed him to hear the life skills I/his coaches/teachers tried to teach all our athletes/students, so he was taught much of what I felt he needed to know.
One by one, as they left, our house seemed more cavernous, our voices seemed louder, echoing with fewer people talking and fewer people in our home.
In August of "07, Jon moved into the dorm at Medaille College. When Sally and I returned that day from Buffalo, we entered our home, made our way into our living room, and both felt a little chill, as our voices seemed to echo, realizing the girls were gone and Jon would only be in and out for the next four years, before leaving for good. We looked around and began talking about the seemingly emptiness of having a house all to ourselves.
We saw Jon often during his college years on breaks, holidays, and during summers (where he worked many jobs during extended breaks from campus life.) We also drove to Medaille baseball games in the springs of each year. Those involved home games in Buffalo, other games, (Conference and Non-Conference) played elsewhere in New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland, and spring trips to various tournament sites in Florida. This gave us times we could spend with him away from home and during school breaks, but it wasn't quite the same. (I got to see him more than Sally in two of his years, as I was honored to have been asked by the College President to serve on a Parent Advisory Committee, which allowed me to see Jon when I attended scheduled meetings in that capacity.) But the times he was gone from home, and the girls already having moved to far off places (Chasy to Buffalo, then Tennessee) and Chris (California, Virginia, Pennsylvania, then back to this area), we had a lot to miss in those times, we were still adjusting to being just us two.
As time passed, as empty-nesters, Sally and I found things we enjoyed doing and we did them, which we're still doing. (I enjoy calling us the coolest couple of Geriatric Jetsetters.) We purchased a 20 (now 40) game Season Ticket Package for Indians/Guardians Baseball, visited Hawaii, Vegas, began our following of Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefers (attending 16 concerts, his Off-Broadway musical, and numerous Buffett tribute band concerts. We've enjoyed much local entertainment at the Reg Lenna, Willow Theater, Shea's Theatre, JCC, we volunteered some at our Church, and made occasional visits to Chas, Chris, and Jon, when possible, and when Mother Nature cooperated. Chas left for Buffalo around 2007, then Tennessee a few years later. Chris and Jeff were in California after they married (1995), for a few years (Jeff was in the Marines). They then moved to Virginia, then Pennsylvania, before returning to this area (2007.) Jon left to begin his Law Enforcement career in Chesterfield County Virginia (2012), where he later met and married Erica where they built a house, and became parents of our two sweet granddaughters.
When Jon started walking (even earlier as I rolled a ball to him on the living room floor), we had our gloves and baseball and played catch often, in many places we visited. We didn't talk a lot while doing it, but it seemed we spoke volumes to each other with every toss/catch. We played catch in our backyard, on beaches, camping trips, picnics, at the actual Field of Dreams (Iowa), League Park (Cleveland) during All Star Week, and Father's Day at Jacobs Field. We played at numerous Pro (especially CLE), and MiLB ballparks. We played when he helped me coach Girls' Softball at Falconer, at Medaille College games, Tournaments we traveled to where he played, and some I coached, in Cooperstown, and other travel tournaments. We've played in front of his Virginia home, sometimes, on Christmas, sometimes Father's Day and elsewhere too. Again, those catches were silent, but many feelings were exchanged back and forth. That was especially true playing catch twenty minutes before his wedding in a Richmond, Virginia hotel parking lot. You see, Jon and I talked a lot while he was growing up. They were teaching moments, expectation moments, sports moments, and learning experiences for us both. Our catches, then and now, recall those conversations and continue to convey our thoughts to/for, each other, as they return to mind, while we're seemingly communicating telepathically with each other.
Just before increasing our season ticket package in Cleveland to 40 games (in '19) Sally, Erica, Jon, and I attended the '16 World Series. Jon and I attended the entire week of the '19 MLB All Star week in Cleveland (even brought our matching, "Like Father, Like Son" T-shirts, each wearing them the first day we were there, without each other one knowing it.
In the middle of all the years, before moving south, Jon and I would catch a live Browns games per season, tailgating, playing catch (w/football) and cheering on our Browns. Since he left, we still watch games together, he in Virginia, me at Waddington's Tavern, but we talk to each other during games via text or, if the Browns score, by phone communication. I've been lucky to have been in Virginia a few times during Football seasons. We've gone to Jon's NFL viewing establishment, where he met another diehard Browns fan, a young judge, who's a great kid (kid because anyone younger than me is a kid). So, Jon and I still watch Browns games, sometimes together, most times "separately together," via technology. When that happens, the memories of those baseball/football catches, and the silent conversations which said so much, rush back to me like they happened yesterday.
My biggest regret (like Sinatra, I've had a few) is that I didn't play more catch with Chasy and Chrissy, or sometimes didn't know what to say to them, or let them wear Gels, or eat sugared cereal. I regret acting like Tony Soprano regarding outfits, make-up, dating, and everything else I was trying to learn on the fly, when we began our lives together all those years ago. That's on me, and I'm very sorry for that. I loved going to your concerts, girls (even Aunt Rhody), both vocal and instrumental, A'Cappella and Orchestra, and Chrissy's Saturday gymnastics, and Art displays. I loved watching you both at swimming lessons, and while playing on the rocks at Allegany State Park while camping. I enjoyed helping you learn to ride two-wheeled bikes (even carrying you, Chas, after you fell and hairline fractured your ankle), then later, helping you three with driving lessons in the Washington School parking lot. Please know I love all of you unconditionally, always will, and I thank God (and Mom), daily for bringing all three of you into my life.
Don't worry about our empty nest, and the home echoes we hear now. Pride and Love (and our Geriatric Jetsetting) have taken up some of that space and silence. Maybe, the emptiness and quietness, are "Sounds of Silence" serving as mental reminders allowing us to visit past times that do, and will, live in our minds and hearts forever, allowing our home fires to keep burning strong.