It’s official: we are empty nesters. Ronan moved out two days ago. It’s not permanent in his case, as he decamped to student digs – on my dime, it’s worth noting. Not like his brother, who moved out four months ago into a place where he pays grownup rent with grownup money he makes at his grownup job, along with his grownup girlfriend. Ronan, on the other hand, is sharing an apartment with three other U of T students. Next spring, when classes end, he’ll sublet his room for the summer and return home. Maybe.

 

It’s not the first time John and I have rattled around the house on our own. Aidan was at Western for four years, while Ronan went to England for his first year of university. Aidan spent a summer in South America, while Ronan was away at camp. We’ve had practice setting the table for two, listening to our own music, and reclaiming the remote control. It’s fine. I don’t miss the massive pile of massive shoes in the front hall, or the extravagant use of towels because God forbid they should use the same one twice. Dinner is less complicated; there are fewer dishes, and no arguments as to whose turn it is to clean up.  Sometimes, I even find leftovers in the fridge.

 

I now have two empty rooms to do with as I please. One is a guest room, and the other could be a yoga room, or a second office, or, extravagantly, a gift-wrapping room! John suggested we take in a Syrian refugee family, which immediately made me feel guilty.

 

Ronan took his guitars, his ukulele, and most of his books, but I still have my own books, and the piano. For the first time in 20 years, we do not have a PlayStation or an Xbox. I took all of their sports trophies and academic medals and put them in a storage box, knowing full well they will never be reclaimed. What adult displays his school trophies?

 

The dogs seem a bit confused, but that’s nothing unusual. Dewey is always semi-freaked out, and Asta lives a life of patient resignation at the best of times. I do have to walk them more frequently, but that’s doable. They still sleep outside of Aidan’s basement bedroom, but I think that’s because the floor is cooler down there.

 

It’s not like we don’t see the boys. Aidan was here for dinner last night, and Ronan has been home every day to pick up stuff he forgot. We’re all playing golf together this weekend. They call and text frequently, even when they don’t want or need anything.

 

We are also super busy. There’s work, of course, but the fall is really social. The calendar is full up, and we are hosting a work thing for John in two weeks with 60 plus people (That’s how many they are, not how old). We are still doing work on the cottage before we close it, and the next thing you know it will be Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and then we’re on a grease skid until next summer. Bottom line is I don’t really have time to miss the kids.

I really miss the kids.

 

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