31 Days of the Almost Empty Nest: Full


This post is part of my 31 Days of the Almost Empty Nest series. I’m writing in community with the thirty-one dayers. Women all over the world are joining together in the month of October to write every day about something they’re passionate about. Check out some of the other writers here. So much good stuff. To read my first post, with links to all the days, go here. Don’t forget about the giveaway on this post.


This morning, the crescent moon is a lopsided grin in the sky. It hangs under the morning star, looking like a garlic clove, giving fragrant light. Fog nestles in the low places but the sky remains crisp, shining its many beacons down on Bonnie and me as we wade into dew-soaked grass.

We walk around the house and I peer in the windows from the back yard. The kitchen gives a warm glow that begins inside of me. This morning, I am happy.

My family is all under one roof again for a few days. Yesterday, I waited in the van for Teddy outside of his dorm. I drove along the river, past cornfields, under a blue sky for almost four hours to fetch our eldest chick. It’s his first time home since beginning his freshman year and I would have driven to that milky moon and back to get him. On the way home, we talked about everything. And this boy is my quiet one. The look on his face when he climbed into the passenger seat beside me made my heart melt.

“It’s good to see you, mom,” he said, with a smile as wide as the moon’s. I had to restrain myself. He looks thin to me. But he seems so much older. How does this happen in the span of two shortish-longish months?

After the long drive home through the dark, down narrow roads ripe with big trucks and slow-moving vehicles, we all sat in the living room together. Bonnie was beside herself with joy as he munched a piece of chocolate pie left in the fridge by his Grammy especially for him.

It’s strange how this old thing can feel so new. How time changes a family and each season leaves its mark. We are moving slow through these things, but we move together. Like the changing phases of the moon, all that is old is new again, bathed in shimmering beauty.

Almost Empty


  1. Julie says

    Oh my, this brings tears. Our nest is almost empty, too. Our oldest is spending his first year away in New York City. How it wish it was only a 4 hour drive from our home in Orlando! Up until reading your post, I haven’t cried for missing him. Every time we talk, he’s so full of life. So sure and confident that he’s where he’s supposed to be. And I’m so proud that he’s doing it — living in NYC, in an apartment, holding down a job, making it to class on time, cooking for himself, going to church, meeting new friends. But, reading here, I realize that I miss seeing his grin, his hairline, his deep brown eyes. Won’t be able to do that till Christmas. I can wait, but the waiting feels long.

    Thanks for allowing me to cry and realize, I miss him.

    • says

      Oh, friend, sending mama hugs from here! New York City! How brave of you both. I can’t imagine. Teddy had his schools narrowed down to this one and one in the Bronx. We visited NYC and toured and we were certain he would choose life in the big city! But in the end, and I’m grateful to have him closer, he chose Kenyon. Praying for your chick and you as we journey together this way. ((hugs))


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