Frankly, I've repressed the details.Īt least my parents stayed put (the wallpaper, pocked with my brother's nail holes, hangs on). During school holidays I moved in with my sister. He was squeezed into shared quarters and thought my monastic single would be an excellent place to spread his wings, the sooner the better. The day after my college acceptance letter arrived, one of my brothers appeared in the doorway of my 9-by-9 suburban bedroom, carrying his collection of Rex Stout paperbacks and eyeing some display space where my mother and I had hung a single roll of French wallpaper. My parents didn't call a decorator, but they didn't have to. ''One thing we would counsel is, don't call the decorator right away.'' ''Separation is one of the major tasks of adolescence,'' he added. He still remembers his little sister trying to seize his bedroom when he left New York for the University of Maryland 30 years ago. Koplewicz, a child psychiatrist and director of the Child Study Center at New York University. ''Home is not only Mom and Dad, it's your room, too,'' said Dr.
Real estate, a number of psychologists and family therapists explained, often has an emotional subtext. Instead, he staked his turf (temporarily ruining it for anyone else) by leaving his shoes and other debris all over the floor, ''as if Vesuvius exploded and then it was frozen in time.''
She suggested that he ''tidy up'' before taking off. Burg, picturing its potential as a guest room. ''Leaving it vacant, that's insane,'' said Ms. During his last two years of high school, he had been living in a studio apartment that is part of the family's Upper East Side co-op. When her son boomeranged back temporarily after college, she cast about for a new place to put him and finally found it ''in a back room.''ĭale Burg, a New York writer, though careful not to let the words ''what I could get for this if I put it on the open market'' pass her lips in front of her son, started mentally overhauling the space he left over Labor Day weekend, when he entered Skidmore as a freshman. By the time he graduated, the takeover was a fait accompli, and the boy's bedroom no longer contained a bed. Jeannette Lofas, a family therapist, recalling the thrill of found space in her Manhattan apartment when her son left for college.Ĭareful to respect borders, she resisted opening drawers and poking around.
''At first I just used his desk,'' said Dr. On the other hand, in cities where space is often in short supply, the departure of college-bound offspring opens up some valuable real estate. She has kept her oldest daughter's bedroom pretty much intact since she enrolled at Duke University, six years ago. ''It means a whole stage of your life is over,'' said Audrey Goldsmith Kubie, a mother of three and a social worker in New York. When offspring leave, it creates a hole in the household, both physical and psychological. Turning back toward New York in a rental van suddenly grown still, we wondered how our parents ever adjusted to life as proprietors of empty nests.Īnd then we had an epiphany: we hadn't lost a daughter - we had gained a room. Imagine our pangs the first time we caught a glimpse of our daughter's new home, where vegan is the preferred diet, ''clothing optional'' is a regular event and party invitations hang in hallways next to envelopes of condoms. During the weeks bracketing Labor Day, more than 13 million students enrolled as college undergraduates, the first loud rumblings of a baby boom echo that will have social ramifications for years to come. TWO weeks ago, we packed our daughter's sneakers, CD's, laptop and rice cooker and drove her to college, doing our bit to contribute to the biggest youth exodus since Woodstock.