An Empty Nest
Excuse my sniffling. Our youngest daughter just moved out of the house and my husband and I are alone for the first time in 33 years. The last little birdie has finally spread her wings and left the nest.
December 25th, 1981 was the last day it was just the two of us. We lived in a crappy one bedroom apartment with yellow shag carpet and owned a car we bought for $75. The next day our son was born and we never looked back.
Our family expanded over the next 10 years with the addition of three daughters. Our lives were focused on raising our children for so many years that I couldn't imagine it just being the two of us ever again. Remarkably the day has arrived.
It was time for her to go, but change can be hard and I'm not sure what to expect. It might be too quiet. I wonder if we should join a support group for empty-nesters.
I guess I could distract myself by repainting her old room and turning it into a guest room. What will it look like without clothes covering the floor? That might be nice.
I could clean out a few closets. Hey, maybe I could finally get rid of all that old stuff the kids left behind. The stuff they say they care about, but not enough for them to take with them. They wouldn't even know. Yeah, that might be good.
Since it's just us, my husband won't have to park on the street in front of our house any more. He can have his spot in the driveway back, the one he lost when the first kid got a car. I hadn't thought about that.
I won't have to worry about anyone eating the candy bar I have hidden in the pantry or rolling their eyes at me as I sip a Pina Colada, singing, while doing housework. I'm starting to feel a lot better. Yeah, this might be okay.
I just thought of a lot of other perks too. Why was I so sad?
If any of our children are reading this blog, you might want to call before you drop by, unannounced, on Saturday afternoon - your dad and I might be doing it on the kitchen table.