Navigating A New Kind of Empty as My Youngest Truly Flies the Coop
Indulge me while I wallow in the silence for a bit.
Last night, I slept in my son’s room, the smell of his shampoo still fresh on his pillow. Earlier that day, he and my husband drove a moving van down the driveway, headed toward our youngest child’s new life 300 miles from home.
Home. Will he still call our house his home? Or will the place he’d spent the first 22 years of his life morph into a destination he visits on occasional weekends and holidays — visits that will most likely grow fewer and fewer with the passage of time?
I can’t help feeling blue. Sad for me, but excited for him. He’s taken the first steps toward new adventures — a new job in a new city where he’ll make new friends, discover new favorite restaurants, and continue growing into the fine young man I’ve watched mature before my own two eyes. I’m a proud mama for sure, so why can’t I shake this void that’s growing in the pit of my stomach?
It’s not like he’s been living at home full-time for the last four years. For much of that time, he’s been away at college — studying hard, building self-confidence, and establishing his independence. But the end of each semester brought a predictable and significant stay with us, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to…
