The nest is empty

So today my youngest moved out and now all our children have flown the nest.

This event made me reflect on when I left home. The first time was when I was 18 and I went to live and work in London, I never considered the impact for my family, it was just what I wanted to do and so I did it. It must have been a worrying time for my Mum but she never stopped me going or tried to persuade me that it was not the right thing to do. I came home fairly regularly and in between times she would write me letters with news from home. I still have those letters, with her beautiful handwriting telling me all what was happening in the family and when I read them I can hear her voice. Such wonderful memories to have.

Less than a year later I had moved back home. It wasn’t for me, at that time. I had a boyfriend back at home and I thought that was more important. How foolish I was.

I then left home again about a year later to move in with said boyfriend to a tiny flat. I arranged it all in secret, not telling my family until I left, as I knew they would not approve of me living in sin! I was right. My father was livid and refused to allow that boyfriend back in the family home for some time. I hurt my parents by doing that, it was a misguided and immature idea. But the power of love from your parents can forgive so much and I am glad to say that relationships were repaired.

Eventually though after splitting up with that boyfriend and moving house I eventually bought my first home, a nice terraced house. I was on the property ladder at a young age. An independent woman. I still lived less than 20 miles from the family home so got to see them very regularly. It was not a happy time though with traumatic lovelife and then my Dad dying. So when I got the opportunity to move away with work, I jumped at it. This was when the realisation I had truly flown the nest must have hit my Mum.

I still remember the day before I moved; Mum and my sister came to help me pack and when it came time for them to leave Mum was crying. I couldn’t understand why.

I understand now.

And I am pleased that my daughters are both independent women, doing what they want to do and knowing that they have a home to come to, wherever we are in the years to come.