Reflections on the Empty Nest:

From Pearl to Nautilus

by Ezra Idlet

Empty Nest diverges from the regular Culture format to bring you reflections on empty nesting by Ezra Idlet, half of the comedy musical duo Trout Fishing in America (see photo; Ezra is on the left). Ezra was kind enough to share his thoughts with us. Together with Keith Grimwood, he has composed, played, and recorded music for almost 30 years. The pair’s special musical blend of comedy, family themes, musical prowess, and just plain fun has earned them three Grammy nominations. Visit their Web site for info on their music, concert schedule, and available CDs. You’re never too old to go Trout Fishing.…

The Empty Nest
I've thought about it for years. The idea would come at one of those wonderful moments that happen as we raise our children. It might be after one of the kids had a great basketball game. Or after reading a note one of them left for my wife or me that pulled on the heart strings. Or maybe after we watched a home movie—I'd realize just how quickly the time was passing. I'd imagine what the house would feel like without the children, and I'd fill up with sadness. The feeling wouldn't last long, but I would feel it, just the same.

When Karen and I married, we didn't have children. It was normal to come home to just each other. My job as a musician kept me on the road a lot. Karen's jobs in photography kept her in town. Sometimes at the drop of a hat, Karen would meet me in some city where I was playing, and we'd spend time together on the road. We had a catamaran that we'd sail in the summer. It was a pretty carefree existence.

From Pearl to Nautilus
As it is for most people, for us, having children was a big adjustment. We stayed at home more. We had less time to hang out with friends. All of a sudden, our whole world revolved around parenting. We both took it seriously and enjoyed our time with our babies. We still traveled together. We took our kids to music festivals in Canada, Louisiana, and elsewhere. When the children started school, though, we scaled back our traveling. We adjusted. When I think of how our family evolved over the years, I am reminded of the way a pearl develops, layer by layer. It didn't happen all at once.

When Steven, our youngest child, left for college this summer, my first feelings were panic: How do I define myself now? How do Karen and I relate? Am I still necessary? I'm now working through all of those issues. I think that my visual of our family as a pearl is inadequate, though. It makes more sense to imagine us as a chambered nautilus. As we grow, we make new compartments to hold ourselves: As a family, we will still need to grow—to include our children's spouses or partners and possibly grandchildren!