The Not So Empty Nest

What Intergenerational Living,

IFS (Internal Family Systems), and

Dorothy Day Can Teach Us

About two years ago, the empty nest life my husband and I shared changed dramatically.

Our thirty-something-year-old daughter and her two preschool boys moved in with us. We regretted the need for it, wished it wouldn’t have been necessary, but nonetheless embraced it with unconditional, parental love.

The weeks leading up to the arrival of these three precious beings, I tried not to gather any expectations of the upcoming shift in my life, because truthfully, I had no idea. I did know I adored my mornings. I’d press the “go” button on my coffee pot, retrieved my paper by walking down our driveway (sadly, the task is now completed by clicking my mouse), drank my coffee and turned the AJC pages in silence.

After reading the paper, I’d go to my office, settle into my upholstered-fabric chair arranged to give me the perfect view of our generously upholstered-grass covered yard, and while waiting for the sun to rise, read various books: Thomas Merton’s autobiography, Seven Story Mountain, Mary Oliver’s poems, a collection by Rumi, whatever piqued my interest. I pondered the wisdom in the words, respected the brilliance of their art, and wrote words inspired as I processed them. Finally, I’d wrap things up with ten to twenty minutes of Centering Prayer, a particular form of meditation.

I loved this time.

Little did I know how much our lives would change, and how I struggled to keep my morning routine, and eventually surrendered a good portion of it.

No doubt, our daughter also surrendered. She moved from being the woman of her house and returned to her childhood bedroom, and the boys to her siblings’ former rooms. She did a beautiful job, and we worked together so her boys understood above all, “Mommy was the boss,” and when she was gone, we ruled the roost, but with words like, “Mommy would want . . .”

Mealtimes became a challenge. Little boys have a hard time sitting on a hard wooden chair. They fall off. They don’t like things like mashed potatoes, peas, meatloaf, or chicken pot pie.

They use this time to sing, dance, and get their steps in by walking around the table. And yes, I got hearty, thick cushions to keep them seated. We encouraged trying foods they thought they didn’t like and made rules like once seated, remain seated throughout the meal. We even implemented “la-la-ing” your dish. Code for “take your dish to the sink.”

But we all know little boys have short memories, attention spans, and have a fickle desire to please someone other than themselves.

A more insightful observation: grown adults have the same issues.

NO BAD PARTS The Internal Family Systems Model

And here I share my fascination with IFS. Our son, a therapist, gave me Richard C. Schwartz, PhD’s book No Bad Parts. While the title alone is enough to make you stop and think, the theory can be applied in both a micro (self) and later on I make the jump to the macro (family).

Admittedly, IFS is a bit abstract and takes some time to synthesize. I will certainly over simply it, but in a nutshell, even parts of our personality we consider to be unhealthy are there for a reason—hence No Bad Parts. They are there to protect our core Self (big S).

I invite you to consider this: your emotional body is made up of several sub-personalities which make up a complete internal system. Now look at your extreme sub-personalities, which may be wounded, and come in the guise of anger, shame, disappointment and so on.

For simplification, let’s boil down to three common parts, or extreme roles.

1.      Managers help us walk through daily life.

2.      Exiles hold on to painful experiences and can be difficult.

Managers want to keep these exiles under control, so we avoid pain.

3.     Firefighters put out our fires of shame, pain, and denial. Often they manifest in addiction or other unhealthy behaviors.

And the good news? The core Self, given a chance, will travel toward healing and completion. First, identify and free your parts from any extreme roles. Embrace your core Self as worthy and good, enough, and collaborate all your parts to work as a team so your core Self is in charge.

Sounds like work. It is. Read more at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapy-types/internal-family-systems-therapy.

THE LONG LONELINESS The Autobiography of the Legendary Catholic Social Activist Dorothy Day

Dorothy day was born in Brooklyn, New York, a few years before the turn of the twentieth century. Her father, a newspaperman and seriously protective of his children’s innocence, didn’t allow his children to venture far beyond their home for fear of them hearing unsettling world news. As he worked during the night, he slept during the day, discouraging outside visitors. Because of this, Dorothy and her siblings had hours of unsupervised and unscheduled free time. This lack of metered time and an education which was “not so crowded” gave her freedom of a “childhood that was a happy time,” with “moods of uncertainty and even hopelessness and sadness. The later mood only accentuated the joys that were truly there.” (pg. 27) I wonder how or if her generous, automatous free time allowed her an excess of empathy, as her life’s work involved social activism, advocating for the poor and oppressed. Her work so merciful, the Catholic Church has named her Servant of God, a step to sainthood.

Connecting the Three

Our four-year-old grandson, applying preschool lessons at home, started making connections with all kinds of things. “Memaw, my broccoli is connected to that farm picture because they both have green.” His objective was to avoid eating broccoli, but this essential thought had me connecting dots, where previously, perhaps, even for good reason, the lines were never drawn.

But here the connections are summed up:

There are parts of living in a three-generational household that are hard. My washing machine isn’t always available when I need it. I can’t just serve raisin bran for supper. I get up early to get a snippet of my morning routine, which the boys often interrupt. Months ago, I stopped my Centering Prayer. It’s a practice which should be done daily, and rather than face frustration, I relented and gave it up.

But what’s behind the churning washing drum, the ‘what’s for dinner’ question, and the footsteps padding down the steps to my office?

It’s love—with No Bad Parts. Pure and simple love. The hugs around my neck, the questions, “why all of a sudden is it dark in the morning when I wake up?” Smelling kid shampoo while cuddling and reading a story, sticky hands grasping mine in the parking lot. The team building with my daughter. We share our closets. We sit over a cup of coffee. We pick up items at the grocery store for each other. She checks that my curling iron is unplugged after I leave.

We are family. Even my husband and I are gentler with each other—speaking softer, more patiently, and spending the extra ten seconds on a passing hug—even when no one is watching. We manage our emotions. If one of us is having a bad day, we give them space, then later ask if they’re okay. We may exile ourselves (the closed door means I need privacy!), and we put fires out for each other. Yes, daughter, I’ll pick up Dax at three so you can work a 15-hour day. We hug each other if there're tears. When we’re afraid, we remind ourselves we are not alone. We have support.

Unconditional love.

Where does Dorothy Day fit in? I think of her unchartered hours, her free time that allowed her to explore books written by classic authors like Hugo, Dickens, Stevens, and Poe, as well as sneaking in a few forbidden romances. Loving the Bible, she often turned to the Psalms. She daydreamed, saw her parents serve others, felt the comfort of family, and benefited from taking care of her little brother, as others nurtured her.

My hope and prayer, as busy and hectic as our days are here with the little boys, that they reflect back and see the nurturing, the uncluttered time (I’m not a fan of screens for developing brains), they feel the security of family, being able to fall backward and trust there’s a net to catch them, but at the same time, may they build a strong foundation of trust, cooperation, empathy, self-education, and mercy.

And may my grandsons bring all their parts together in a way their core Self can remain healthy, and may they share their generous hearts with others, remembering their grandpa and Memaw. 😊