Reflecting on the routines needed when you can’t just hop in a car to see family, separated by an ocean in between.
I know this trip well. I have lost count on how many times I have done this, but enough to have a routine. To know how to get through German customs without too much stress. I know my way to the gate. I know where to fill my water bottle and where to get the best sandwich before the flight. When to put on my compression socks and when to get in line.
I recall specific flights that stand out more than others; the previous time flying back for our daughter’s wedding, the last time flying with our youngest to complete her university orientation, or the time when she and I lucked out with my husband’s business points and were able to sit in business class, side by side, watching movies and eating junk food the whole way across the ocean.
I loved our flights when there were 3 of us, our daughter by the window, me on the aisle, and my husband in the middle. A Daddy sandwich. Excitement was palpable between us, heading back to the U.S. either for the first time after moving or excited to spend time at our place in Door County.
All the others just blur together, enough to form my routine, my habits at the Frankfurt airport…trying to make this as pleasant an experience as possible. It is always a challenge when working through a language “speed bump” and cultural differences. A challenge to manage through any anxieties about flying or sore muscles, stiff necks and tired eyes coming from limited sleep.
Reflecting today as this could be my last flight back to the U.S. before we move back officially in the spring, after nearly 4 years of living abroad in Germany.
I can’t really wrap my mind around this yet as we have been living in such a state of unknowns, undetermined dates, uncertainty of locations. But we knew it was inevitable. This realization brings me right back to gratitude.
I know that this experience, living in Europe, is something that few are able to do. We really have been blessed with this opportunity. But it does come at a cost. Today, I am reflecting on the costs of an ocean in between us and our family. Grateful that I am able to do this, me and my routine, at the Frankfurt Flughafen.
Reflecting on the gradual transition to a new and inevitable season of life: empty nesting.
It is definitely quieter around here. Not that she made much noise during her last two years of high school—she often retreated into her “nest” (our nickname for the top floor of our house, where her bedroom is). Still, we knew she’d come down now and then for food or drinks, join us for walks with the dogs, and wander the house in search of her cats. But now? Yes, it’s definitely quieter.
Our youngest has been away at college in the U.S. for over a month now, while her dad and I are back here in Germany—with her cats and our one remaining dog. We are, officially, empty nesters. I can confirm: her nest is empty.
People often ask how things are going in this new stage. I usually say, “It’s quiet and different, but she’s where she’s supposed to be.” Over the past month, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be an empty nester. It feels less like the dramatic shift of stepping off a plane into a new country, and more like the transition between seasons.
Eventually summer shifts somehow into autumn. You start noticing a few chilly, rainy days, but you’re still wearing your summer clothes—no need to pack them away just yet. Then one day, a tree catches your eye with its changing colors. You’re surprised—how are we heading into another season already? But as the colder days increase and more trees change, it starts to sink in: yes, autumn has arrived.
Raising teenagers is a lot like that. It’s normal for high schoolers to begin pulling away—this slow, natural distancing helps prepare them (and us) for adulthood. When our daughter turned 18, even she wasn’t so sure she was ready for this thing called “adulting.” But this gradual change also gives us, as parents, time to prepare for life without them under our roof every day.
We’ve had children in our home for nearly 25 years. That’s a long season. So what does this next one look like—for me? I don’t know yet. I know it likely involves moving back to the U.S sometime next year, but beyond that, the long-term picture feels a little foggy. That’s hard for someone like me, who loves to plan.
My husband and I do have some exciting plans together—we’ve been preparing for this new chapter for a while. But for me, personally, what are the things I can touch, see, and smell in this new season of life? That’s a good question—and one that will take time, reflection, and prayer to answer.
So, now that I fully realize I’m entering a new season, I’m trying to give myself grace. This transition might take time—a long time—and that’s okay. With each new season comes new opportunities, fresh joys, and unexpected beauty. Sometimes those joys are tucked under a fallen log or hiding in the branches of a tree.
After the holiday whirlwinds, it can be so easy to jump into a new year and not reflect on the blessings of the previous 365 days. Easy to jump into a new day and not be grateful for the gifts in each day. But in reflection and gratitude, peace and joy can be found.
The Christmas decorations are finally all tucked away in their resting places for another year. Our adult children who were all with us for the holidays in Germany are back in the US, back to their lives of work and study. My new calendar has been placed on the wall and already has new notes handwritten on it. It can be easy to turn the page on a new year, a new chapter, and not reflect on the precious experiences of the past 365 days.
For years, before willingly releasing my consciousness to a night of sleep, I would list in my head 3 things that I was grateful for in the day. I wish I was able to write these down every day, but jotting these in a journal nightly has just never worked for me. Listing them in my head helps me to focus on the present, focus on my blessings, whether large or small, and helps send me into slumber with positive thoughts.
This past year, one day I felt God challenging me…”Really? You can only think of 3 things before you go to bed that you are grateful for?” Surely, I could think of at least 10 things before I doze off for the day.
I accepted the challenge and now before I go to sleep, turning the page on another day, I think of 10 things that I am grateful for in the day. God’s blessings are everywhere, and I really do not have a problem thinking of at least 10 things. Even on my worst days, I can find 10 things. If I can think of 10 things, I know my day has been a “10”. This practice has helped me to accept the gift of the day I was given, to put focus and attention on the most special parts of the day, and to guide me into a new day tomorrow.
But tomorrow is never promised. There really is only today. Which brings me back to my reflection on 2024. 2025 is not promised to any of us. But if you are reading this, we all experienced precious 2024 and all its ups and downs. That is very much worthy of pause and reflection.
So, I reapplied my list of 10 things before I go to bed, to reflecting on the past year. How hard would it be to come up with a list? Would it be challenging to narrow it down? I was surprised that my list came to me so easily, in a matter of a minute as I turned back the calendar to the previous year. Each one of these focused on people, as people and relationships make up a strong pillar of my life. (For my family – these are in no particular order as each one is so special).
1 – We were able to spend Christmas and New Year’s with all of our children and their partners. With half of us living on another continent, this truly was a gift as it never had happened before here in Germany. Together, we played board games, laughed, ate, drank, and traveled, just spending time being with each other.
2 – I am so grateful to have been able to spend so much extended time with my family and friends in the US this year, just being with them. A hidden blessing of living so far away is that when you travel over the ocean, you want to stay a while.
3 – My amazing husband surprised me with weekend trips to Bergen, Norway and Naples, Italy as a way for us to see more of Europe and not use his precious vacation time from work. (May we also recommend Lufthansa Surprise Flights, which is how we got to Norway last minute for a cheap deal!). Half of me is Norwegian and setting foot in Norway for the first time was simply a moment I will never forget. Those are my people!
4 – Early in 2024, I had the amazing opportunity to help our future son-in-law propose to our daughter in front of a stunning castle on a golf course. Another moment I will never forget, and we even had sunny blue skies on that February gray day, just at the right moment.
5 – Later in the year, I had the honor of being there in person with our daughter when she shopped (and found) her wedding dress. Milestone moments for sure! Video technology helps us feel connected to others being so far away, but I am grateful that for this moment I was there in person.
6 -This fall, I traveled to Georgia to see where our son was working in an engineering Co-op. As an added bonus, one of my sisters was able to join in the fun. We also traveled to South Carolina to see our uncle (who is a priest) and his church parishes there. I called it “Operation Sun and Son”! A success.
7 – For our youngest, 2024 was a very challenging year. As someone who battles migraines and other medical conditions, dealing with the German medical system here has been extra challenging to say the least. I am so proud of all she has accomplished as a senior in high school, despite all of her medical challenges. But the greatest gift was that she was able to begin a new medicine after turning 18, that has been simply miraculous. I hate to even say how amazing it has been, to not jinx her. But I do give thanks every day for this medicine and for the people who created it. Simply life changing.
8 – Well we bought a house in 2024. That was huge! The house isn’t huge, but if you play Monopoly, you understand the importance of having properties all together. This house is directly behind our small cottage on the water in Wisconsin. We hired an architect and look forward to making this our retirement home someday.
Our future Wisconsin sunrise
9 – I turned 50 in 2024! A big milestone! For 10 years, I had told my friends that I wanted to celebrate my 50th somehow in Europe in a castle. I had no idea that actually would happen. From celebrating the day at a wine tasting in a castle on the 50th parallel here in Germany, to traveling to Ireland and Scotland with our friends from the US, to celebrating in the US at our new home later in the summer, 2024 was year of leaning in on experiences and savoring the moment. These experiences are ones that will grow huge memory dividends in the future — moments that truly last and are what life is about (check out the book “Die with Zero” by Bill Perkins to learn more about memory dividends). We are a huge fan!
10 – Last but not least, this was the year that I realized that I needed to do some planning for our empty nest and put myself out there, leveraging my skills in my current world. I went back to teaching Zumba Fitness. I started an English-speaking faith community. And I even became a demonstrator for Thermomix. (If you don’t know what Thermomix is, just wait until I get back to the US. You will know then).
The next time you lay your head to your pillow, I encourage you to reflect on your day and think of 10 things you are grateful for. It is ok to have repeats! This simple act can help you focus on the present and your many blessings, no matter how challenging the day.
As I have turned this page into the new year, I realize that this coming year is turning the page on so many new chapters. A wedding. A graduation. A possible return to the US. Chapters that are full of treasured characters, plot twists and turns, and a common thread through it all: “God, thank you”.
A mom reflects on their emptying nest and the courage to write new life chapters, all part of one beautiful life story.
Our youngest of three, with a big grin, waved and boarded the bus in 2013 for her first full day of school as a 1st grader. “Now you can get some work done, Mom!” she exclaimed. Her funny quips always brought a smile, and even at that young age, she could see the challenge of balancing work and family. I was going to miss our special “bagged” lunches in my office, but I was so happy for her excitement to finally be in school all day like her brother and sister. As a preschooler and kindergartener, she had “worked” alongside me at our local church complete with her own desk and phone in my office.
How quickly those years flew by. Today, as she headed off to school for the last “first” time of her high school career, I’m reminded that I’ve been doing this ‘first day of school’ routine for 18 years. That’s a long time—a third of my life—and it’s worthy of reflection. Luckily, our youngest has aspirations of medical school, our middle child is still in university, and our oldest is starting her master’s degree this fall, so I can still look forward to the obligatory selfies. But it isn’t the same. There’s no in-person hug, no smile, no wave to kick off this special day. Every new beginning must be preceded by the end of a chapter.
As the nest gets emptier, it would be easy to fall into the trap of not knowing what comes next—wondering how I will contribute, how I will be needed. For half of my life, one of my main purposes has been to care for and nurture our family, equipping them to someday fly on their own. Now, it’s easy to feel less needed, reflecting on the past and gazing into a future that looks vastly different. But today, I was reminded that when you remember you are not alone, you can find strength and encouragement.
This morning, I hiked through the forest with a parent group from our international school. I enjoy this group, but on a hot, humid morning, where my “pity party of one” seemed more appealing, I forced myself to join the hike. Though the journey was arduous, my soul felt refreshed, and I found a renewed sense of purpose afterward. I met people who were experiencing similar feelings—grappling with the loss of something or someone and trying to find ‘what’s next’ and where to go.
I may have been the only parent on the hike today whose youngest child is beginning their last year of school, but each person seemed to be at the end or beginning of a new chapter. There were those mourning the loss of a career in a previous country, finding it challenging to work in Germany. A wife mourning the loss of her husband. A woman who had only been in Germany for a week, moving her family from Korea, struggling to find the English words she so desperately wanted to share to connect with others.
We listened. We shared. We walked alongside each other. I was reminded that what I am feeling is normal. It’s normal to feel uneasy at a big life milestone, at the turning of a chapter. A sense of loss. Trepidation. It can be tempting to stay stuck in the same chapter, but if the page does not get turned, the story will never grow.
With each new chapter, the book becomes more complete—becoming an even more beautiful story.
I am beyond grateful for the people who are such a vibrant part of this entire book, especially my husband, children, friends and family. And I know that just because our daughter is graduating next year, that does not mean my role as a mother has ended. As our adult children know, mom is just a text or a call away, no matter what the topic.
But, my book is expanding, continuing on with a new chapter. I am reminded to use the blessing of each new day, embracing my abilities and passions, to continue to write my story. I have gifts that go beyond motherhood, and there’s still so much I can do. I don’t know exactly where this new section is heading, but I do know that if I don’t invest the time and energy to begin this new chapter (and ask God to direct my steps), this book won’t be as beautiful and full as it could be.
“I heard you say that you wanted to learn English better. I’m not a teacher, but I’d be happy to meet for coffee each week to help you practice,” I offered to the woman I was hiking with today, who had just moved to Germany from Korea. Her face lit up. “Yes, yes, I would like that,” she immediately replied. I gave her my contact information and decided to say yes to this new adventure, one of several new changes in my book plot recently.
It’s time soon to turn the page on this new chapter, closing a long one of many years. There are so many new characters to meet, new adventures to explore.
Here we go.
“Now you can get some work done, Mom.”
Yes, I can. And I will. And I ask God to help and guide me.
Embracing Second Half Wonders 