History of sorts was made today as we sent our second (and last) child off to college. Well, off to an 18-day freshman orientation hiking/camping/canoeing/rappelling trip before college. For the first time in over 21 years, my wife and I have the house to ourselves.
The poet John McCullagh expressed his feelings about his similar experience this way:
Our house this night is full of life,
both kids up in their rooms.
We’re safe and warm from the harrowing storm
with its lightening streaks and booms.
Yet soon I know, both have to go,
to school, to work, to life.
Then this will be an empty nest
with just me and my wife.
How do birds feel, when, freshly fledged,
their young depart forever.
Do they sing more somberly
when the chicks are not together?
We’re creatures of habit, like those birds
I see when we’re in the park.
I’ll catch myself gazing up the stairs
when both their rooms are dark.