To the Empty-Nest Catholic Mothers Who Ask, “Now What?”

Several weeks ago, I received this poignant email from a Facebook friend (I have edited out identifying details):

Hi Leila,

I’m in need of a holy kick in the pants and am hoping you might be the one to give it to me.

After almost 15 years of playing on the same soccer teams, this afternoon my sons played their final college soccer game together. I’m soooo sad about it. It’s been such a joy to watch them work and play together all these years. One of those sons will be graduating in three weeks, and the other still has one more year.

As my children grow into adulthood and leave (or prepare to leave) the nest—three live a few hours away, two of them in college, and our two youngest are a junior and senior in high school—I am feeling heavy-hearted as I ask myself and Our Lord, “What is my mission now?” I know my main mission is to “know, love, and serve God” and my husband, but for nearly three decades, that mission has been carried out in my “momastery.” The thought of an empty nest overwhelms me with sadness.

Have you ever felt this way? I would so appreciate any wisdom or insights on how to respond to these feelings in a holy and productive way that helps me to grow in virtue and be a blessing to my family. 

I was moved by her note, and it’s familiar to me, as every Catholic mother who has watched her children grow to adulthood and move away from home understands the sentiments of her heart. My response to her is what I’ve said and what I’ve wanted to say to so many other women facing this season of life:

First of all, you are amazing. What a good mom.

My youngest is 16, the only minor we have left, and he is in high school. The pangs are beginning. I’m a happy introvert, so I didn’t think I would be affected so much thinking about our eighth and last child leaving, but I will miss him more than I want to admit, and I will miss this stage of life, even though I have plenty of grandchildren! It’s just such a different phase. So quiet. So out of my control. I truly hear you.

But the truth is that your job with your children is just beginning. No one tells us in advance (or maybe we just don’t listen) that it is much harder to be the parent of an adult than a child. The most excruciating anxiety, worry, and fears I’ve had in my life have to do with my adult children—because they are no longer under our roof, our daily schedule, our supervision, our legal authority, our “control.” When they are small and in our homes, we are able to control what they see, whom they meet, what they do. Every night, we know that they are sleeping safely, just down the hall.

But with our adult children, whether they are faithful Catholics or fallen away, the problems they face now are adult problems—huge, unknown, and spanning future decades. We can’t fix their problems even if they want us to (and many times they don’t want our help or advice anyway). And as we age, we are increasingly aware that we won’t be around to see, guide, help, or “rescue” them as the years go by. The weight of this realization is overwhelming.

As the saying goes, “Little children, little problems; big children, big problems.” This suddenly starts to hit hard!

So, when they leave, it seems like they’re not only leaving us with “nothing to do” but also with more to worry about, exponentially, and no control over any of it.

But here’s the good news, and it is beautiful! And it is, of course, by God’s great design. Our babies leaving the nest, and our inability to form and guide them as we once did in the home, forces us in a new and necessary direction. Mothering shifts to advice-giving and mentoring (when they need it or will accept it), listening with compassion and understanding (hard-won by our own life’s battles), and hopefully advancing in wisdom on how to be there for them and when not to be there for them (holy detachment!), all based on charity, humility, patience, and prudence.

The good news of this new chapter is also filled with crosses, and you will be formed and shaped and humbled and even chastised more at this stage than before, which is not only good for us but essential as we approach our old age. The Lord, in His mercy (and through your adult children!), will show you all the dark corners of your motherhood that need cleaning and forgiveness, as well as let you see the good that He worked through you during those younger years.

Now is also the time to become more serious about prayer. And it is not “less than” what you’ve done before. In fact, the mother of adults has been advanced to the Big Time: opportunities for daily Mass, frequent Confession, Adoration, and Scripture reading instead of binge-watching shows, gossiping with friends, or being on the phone scrolling in your alone (lonely) hours.

You’re consciously choosing a deeper love and respect for your husband (the father of those children!), enjoying holy companions to keep you accountable, picking up spiritual reading, the writings of the Saints, and Catholic prayers for mothers. There are wonderful resources out there that are traditional and dependable and that have helped centuries of Catholic mothers through this phase of life. This “less hectic” season is a gift for you to grow in virtue and just pray and pray and pray.

When I was a younger mom, I kind of chuckled at that quaint image of the old grandma in the rocking chair in the corner, quietly praying her Rosary. I don’t chuckle anymore because I understand now that she was doing the most profound work that a mother can do.

Together with Our Lady, she was carrying the souls of her children and grandchildren, on those beads and in those prayers, straight to the Throne of God—praying for the soul of every child and every grandchild to make it to Heaven. That’s all there is, ultimately, and that’s all we want.

Not to overstate it, but prayer is your mission from here on in. It is your job, your motherly commission and duty. And it’s not fluffy, nebulous, or insignificant; it’s probably more important than any service you’ve done for your children so far, aside from teaching them the Faith in the first place, and it is your biggest responsibility toward them now that they are adults.

Become a saint as you age so that your prayers become more powerful and efficacious as you get closer to your own death. This trajectory and natural order is not a tragedy; it is all good and all by design. Lest you forget, as a holy soul in Purgatory and then a saint in Heaven, your prayers for your children will continue! So, deepening your prayer life here on earth will not only help your own soul; it will ensure you’ll continue to help your children’s and grandchildren’s souls after your death!

Isn’t it amazing how God works this out for us? Everything is ordered perfectly and for our good.

I don’t know if all of that is helpful or not, but it’s something to start thinking about. And any sorrow or sadness that you experience is also part of God’s plan and Providence. You can’t escape that; it’s part of the suffering that mothers have been gifted, just as Mother Mary had her Immaculate Heart pierced due to her own motherhood.

This is the cross inherent to our state in life, and it’s transformative and redemptive—as long as it is united to Christ’s sufferings and used for God’s glory. They don’t call this a vale of tears for nothing, and this stage is when we find out what that means!

Gird your loins, Mama—this next arduous, mysterious, and intensely spiritual phase of your motherhood has begun! You’re not alone, and with God’s grace, you’ve got this! Just as you hoped in your note to me, you will grow in virtue and be a blessing to your family, now and forever.