Nest. Empty.

Ours, luckily, has always been one of the houses where the boys’ friends came to hang out, and it was nice to have a reprise of that while Daniel was home for this holiday. Once the chaos of Christmas was past, the kids settled into relaxation mode before heading back to school.

Chris, Gail, Christian, Daniel and Hannah

Daniel and Hannah from a Christmas past

And present

It was comforting to see them gathered in the kitchen and family room, and to hear their voices waft up from the jacuzzi late at night. As any mom knows, the happiest times are when your kids are right there under the same roof with you.

The animals are happiest when they're home, too: Chloe, Daniel, Soho and Chris

But now Daniel has gone back to NYC for his last semester at Columbia, with one job offer in his pocket and the certainty that he is staying in the city after he graduates. Taylor was only here for a very few days this holiday – vacation time is precious and we’re just grateful to have had him here at all. The post-holiday light bulb has clicked on: we can’t take these times for granted.

The CE and Taylor, Christmas 2011

When you live in a place where the demographics favor “the newlywed and nearly dead”, you can’t expect your kids to move back home. We’ve encouraged them to think of their lives as their own and to find their own path, and, good for them, that’s what they’re doing.

If things don't work out in the city, Daniel, you can always come home and be the Shoo-Bear's valet.

Wake-up call: Victoria came all the way up from LA to drive Chris and Daniel to the airport early in the am.

And I think I’ve been a pretty good sport about this empty nest thing. I just reserve the right to have a relapse now and then.  Today, I miss my boys.

Wherever they go and whatever they do, I just hope all roads always lead home at Christmas.

"We promise never to fly the coop. Does that help?"

About polloplayer

Empty nester searching for meaning of life through the occasional chicken epiphany.
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4 Responses to Nest. Empty.

  1. dearfriends says:

    Yes, enjoy! Our own flew the coop years ago and with their own lives going in many directions– well, Christmas mornings no longer have us getting up at 5am or even making cinnamon rolls anymore. We do cherish our memories and usually go down that lane as we savor our own quiet celebration. Our kids seem to be doing the same kind of memory lane stuff. One of our daughters reminded us this year that it was US that got THEM out of bed on Christmas morning. Yes, I vaguely remember that. We were so excited to see them excited. Ah . . .thank you for sharing—Barb

    • polloplayer says:

      Cinnamon rolls! Yum! We’re up early on Christmas am because we squeezed three generations into what normally would be two- an older set of kids, then our boys and now four grandchildren. Christmas morning was lively this year! Thanks for visiting and for your comment.

  2. Chicken Emperor says:

    In the scheme of things, especially on a larger scale, one cannot compare chickens staying with children failing to stay, in spite of the last photo which seems to contradict this. That is to say that philosophically speaking, poultry present= (not at all) sons and/or daughters having flown the coop. Of course, one must consider that hens in hand do not now, nor will they ever equal boys in the bush. It must go without challenge then that cleaning said coop cannot make up for doing laundry for short-staying family members and their friends. The same is generally true of tax preparation, which rarely is required for chickens, regardless of breed.

    And this is the best I can do in channeling James Joyce to address the empty nest issue. If I could write “Southern”, I would have tried Faulkner as well.

  3. Katherine says:

    awww.. I have to admit, it makes having a dog seem okay. I can still remember someone telling me that having kids is amazing and that you strive and strive for the day when you’ve raised them so well, and so confident that they set off to leave you and do their own thing and I thought “WHAT?!?! That is not an okay end-game…. i’m either going to mess up some kids so they never leave me, or I’m switching to dogs.” Cue Karma.

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