25 Years of Parenting and All I Get is this Empty Room . . .
My youngest daughter just moved out of the house. Gone. Just like that. As her first year of college closed out this May, she decided to take up residency with her boyfriend. He’s a peaceful young man. I like him. So does my wife. More importantly, my daughter likes him more than I know.
Their “palace” is a bedroom and bath in a shared apartment in South San Clemente. It’s a short walk or bike ride to the beach, which is nice since they both love the ocean. The summer sunsets will be amazing. Hand-in-hand, they will walk bare-foot along the beach just like my wife and I have done for years.
As I helped them take out her dresser from the room (the final piece of furniture to leave our home) I noticed how empty this once busy and cluttered space had become. The closet that was once filled with her clothes, clothes that I laundered for 25 years, was now filled with my business suits, casual shirts and coats.
The walls that once were home to her funky artwork and posters and her cork board pinned with articles and photos and to-do lists are now bare…almost quiet.
I placed the guitars that I play daily in the room. The solitary chair I sit on seems so small and lonely in the place where her exotic Tiger-eye bamboo bunk bed once stood so tall.
You can actually see the floor now; and step wherever you like without dancing around the clothes and books and laptop and all the other things that most teenagers and young adults leave mindlessly out of place as they busy themselves in their lives.
Now, as I look into this room, which is no longer my daughter’s bedroom, I smile, knowing that this empty place is now my confirmation; I have succeeded as a father.
How did I succeed? Well, my definition of success might differ from other parent’s definitions. But this is why I feel I succeeded:
I am happy that my daughter moved out. She knows I’ll always be there for her in times of crisis and need. She knows I’ll always be there to share ideas and talk about the future that stands before her. She knows that I’ll always be there to hold her hand and kiss her face when she needs her father’s love and support.
She knows that I’ll always be there…ALWAYS!
So . . .
Are you an “Empty Nester?”
How do/did you feel when your last child moved away from home?
How has your relationship with your child changed?