The First Night of the Empty Nest

For the first time since 1999, there are no kids in the house.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, my aunt shared an Elizabeth Stone quote with me. “Making the decision to have a child — it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Truth.

For two decades you get to see them, talk to them, hug them daily. And then, off they go.

Back in the olden days, people had to depend on letters and occasional phone calls. I’m very grateful for cell phones, because text updates and photos bring joy, and the connection helps with the transition.

I really miss the hugs, though.

On the first night without kids, after a fun day of dropping the youngest at college and a boatload of tears, I reached out to a close friend who had been through it. I texted her, “How long does it really suck? Because it’s at a high level of suck right now.”

She gave an estimate of time which was longer than I’d hoped. She gave words of wisdom, support, and love, and then she shared this poem that had been shared with her when she’d needed it.

On Children by Kahlil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
Speak to us of Children.

And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

From The Prophet (Knopf, 1923, public domain)

This transition is the end of an era, but a continuation of the adventure.

May we be the arrows and also the bows — for the children and for each other.

Image: Canva Pro