View from the Empty Nest
This post was penned after our youngest daughter and son left home several years ago.
The old timers said it would happen. They called it Empty Nest Syndrome: coming home to a quiet house, talking to the dog out of boredom, turning on the radio for some noise.
Anyone who raised children knows what I’m talking about. One day you’re elbow-deep in cooking and laundry, the next you’re wandering about the house, wondering what to do with your time. And that’s only the first week.
Of course, we were glad to see our fledglings circle above the nest, test their wings, and take off. We’ve been grooming them for independence for a long time.
But no one can prepare a person for the sudden stillness. It’s like driving 80 miles per hour, then stopping suddenly. It takes a while to overcome the trauma.
Fortunately, God cushioned the shock for us as much as possible. The week our last child moved out we were busy preparing for a trip several states away. Our minds were focused on fine-tuning details for the meetings we planned to attend. There was no time for early withdrawal symptoms.
Then it hit. We arrived home after our out-of-state trip, unlocked the door and felt we were tiptoeing into a quiet church sanctuary. No shoes by the door, no books flung on the kitchen table, no dirty clothes in the laundry basket.
All signs of no occupancy. And now I’m challenged with cooking for two. We’ve been eating a lot of leftovers.
Oh, don’t pity me. Like a child suddenly thrust into kindergarten, I’m discovering new things every day. The value of a bathroom uncluttered by wet towels. Time for reading those books gathering dust on the shelves. Having room to back the car out of the drive without maneuvering around other vehicles. I think I may survive.
During World War II they called it shell shock. Today it's PTSD. Just give me a little time; I’m like a soldier climbing out of the trenches. V-day has arrived. So…why am I sniffling?
How about you? Any experience with Empty Nest Syndrome? Tell us about it below.