The Nest Is Empty

Yesterday, my wife and daughter started out on the two vehicle caravan that will take Nicki to Atlanta and my life to another stage. As the departure date as approached, many people have asked me questions relating to how my life will change when there are no children living in the home. They have ranged from inappropriate inquiries on intimacy (which were met with equally inappropriate responses) to whether we expect a "budget bonanza" since we are no longer footing the bill for their housing costs.
Initially, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. My kids have moved. And your point is?
But as I went to bed last night and habitually reached to close the bedroom door, I paused. Why? Why did I need to close the door? There was no one else in my house. I wasn't going to be disturbed or roused from sleep by a child coming home at 1, 2, or 3. I didn't need to worry about embarrassing my child with a view of my bed clothes glimpsed as they went down the hall to their own room.
I mean, it is just another stage of life that those of us fortunate enough to live long enough go through. It is the order of things, proceeding in the way it has since the time of Eden. I count my blessings that we were able to see them become adults, seemingly free of the demons that I voluntarily consorted with at their age. Both my girls have learned what it means to be told no because money isn't available to satisfy capricious whims. I hope they have learned to value effort and wisdom acquired through teachings or experience. To date, their choices have been good ones, or at least not the sort that will permanently alter their lives to the negative. They are great kids and pretty good people, if I do say so myself.
So quit asking me about being an "empty nester." It hasn't effected me one way or the other. My life is the same.

I closed the bedroom door before turning out the light.