An Empty Nest
May 18, 2010
I was smiling in the grocery store’s produce section as I thought about all the things I wanted to buy, realizing that they would be where I put them when I wanted them the next day or the next.
That next day would be just as free and undetermined as that moment near the broccoli. I could, if I chose, go home and watch a movie in the middle of the sfternoon, or crank the music up to a pottery rattling level, or walk around in whatever level of dress or undress I chose.
I’ve heard of this empty nest thing before, but I never realized how much room there would be to dance, or how the nest would stay so clean and uncluttered.
I’ve heard of this empty nest, but I could never have dreamed, twenty-eight years ago, that the sound of my own nesting would make such a pleasant rustling in the branches.
A nice thing… the guiltless freedom of the empty nest.
I enjoy the very same feeling on occasion when my wife and daughter are off by themselves for a day or two. It’s delicious. But longer than that and I start getting antsy.
Hah! I love my son, and I’m happy to see him. I’m also happy when he leaves. An empty nest is full of possibility.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
::jealousing::
Like Milton’s Adam and Eve, with “all the world before [you].” Savor!