An Empty Nest is All Aflutter

Chelsea left home at 17 to go to University, and Sacha left home to have a gap year right after high school graduation. The house was uncomfortably quiet. The milk carton in the fridge was full, the toilet paper roll was intact, and the laundry basket- was empty. How strange the things were when they both were away… and they never were to return to live with us like before. Thankfully, that last part hadn’t registered in my heart.

The starkness of the empty house, the empty nest. It felt strange. I knew I needed a distraction, one for the very minutes the reason for emptiness set in. Keep busy is what my mother would say. So I would clean the house that wasn’t that dirty. Then I got on a ladder and dusted crystals, one by one. Brainless activity, which let my thoughts unwind, seeing the reflections from the crystals splatter on the walls….  in the end, I faced the quietness, the ache, and the silence that mothers know.

Later, I poured myself a glass of wine, allowing whatever feelings came to the surface to splatter on the floor, baptizing the empty nest.

Who would have guessed that nearly 17 years after Chelsea left home, she would return to live minutes away from us? Chelsea, Martin, and Pickles have moved in with us during this glorious, unexpected bounty, as their home needs more than loving care and a coat of paint.

The empty nest is all a flutter. Shoes everywhere, one sock here, toys underfoot, a cake I made with holes in it from little fingers secretly poking at it, milk spills, overflowing laundry, and toilet paper rolling out the door. It’s a grand party with crayons, dolls, balls, and unending affectionate hugs and sloppy kisses.

I am lucky, and tears flow.



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