A friend of mine with two sons barreling into adolescence, full speed (and sound) ahead, asked me, “What is the sound of an empty nest?” My first response was “Bliss.” Then I listened more closely.
The sound of an empty nest is chicken cordon bleu instead of chicken nuggets; McAlister’s Deli instead of McDonald’s playground.
It is the completion of a movie without the click of the channel surfer and the quiet evening spent enjoying a good book by the fire instead of a loud and rowdy game of Uno at the table. It is the soothing sounds of cool jazz on a peaceful drive to the shopping center instead of the giggly, energized chatter over boom-boom-booming rock.
It’s the tick, tick, ticking of the clock waiting for a call from 1000 miles away instead of footsteps running to catch the phone before the latest crush hangs up.
It is the silence of tears falling as a long forgotten lovey is stored away in a now empty room. It is the soft whisper of arms aching for the warmth of a hug, of trembling lips longing for just one more goodnight kiss.
It’s the echo of regret mingled with the soft voice of hope that one day, in the not so distant future, the clatter of little feet and the clamor of little giggles will drown out the noise of the empty nest.