Nest Searcher's Syndrome

An abandoned nest, found in the hedge next to my kitchen door.

Our children have been gone for several years now.  We never felt traumatized, even when the last child left home;  instead we threw off our clothes and ran around the house nude, singing. And when he called home two days later, worried about "the empty nesters," we feigned sadness, so as not to disappoint him.  Why are we called empty nesters?  There are still two of us left here in the nest.

While I'm quite happy to be where I am, Tall Husband is talking of downsizing, simplifying, moving, giving away our stuff.  I've lived through his midlife crises, the search for the perfect sports car.  I never knew what he would arrive home driving and I'm still driving one of his experiments. But this is something new.  I'm not sharing his sense of adventure.  After all, our weekend home and our main home are in the same city...that's how adventurous this egg is.  I'm feeling as I did when we were planning to evacuate just ahead of a hurricane last year...what do I save?

So today, we have an appointment with a real estate agent in another city...no, not a city, rather a small Texas town...me, the Big City woman.  It's not that I have never been adventurous; before I met Tall Husband, I had lived all over the world.  I had made more than twenty long-distance moves, leaving a trail of enough stuff to outfit several families.

Note: I knew writing about this would help!  I just this moment remembered a couple who travelled the world looking for a place to settle, Nick and Carol.  They spent a year, sending back e-mails about their search, when they could find a cyber cafe.  When they returned, they had not decided and were planning another trip.  I lost contact with them but I'm sure mutual friends can put me in touch.  Perhaps those two birds can give us some advice.  They are the only couple I've known who have been afflicted with this yet-unnamed syndrome.  Let's call it nest searcher's syndrome.  I'll go Google that right now!