Let them fly and see them soar

  

In your vacant room, the lights are always on   

But there is no one calling for food

And as the door is always ajar

I miss screaming, ‘open’ after knocking a couple of times  

The kitchen is boring

Food just fills the tummy

And as the refrigerator door waits forever to be opened

Everything inside is frozen, just like this lonely heart

Days are so dull without those pick and drop duties

Nights were always long, but this silence is unbearably eerie

And while the nest, as they say, is empty now

The heart is full of gratitude and fulfilment

I read somewhere that empty nest syndrome has three stages, grief, relief, and joy. A phase of grief is understandable, with the feeling of sadness or loneliness. I guess relief hits when we move on to develop a new pattern in life or start doing new things. And once the roller-coaster of gloom is over, there is joy.

I guess I am lucky to have moved into the third phase in no time, or so I feel. And that came from a strong realization that every relationship need not be a grip or a possession. Letting go and still feeling that magnetic pull is a surreal emotion to experience. Sitting miles apart and yet knowing when he smiles or when he is low, is an incredible skill I am growing.

Now I am no stone. There are moments when even I feel I may go down, but then a lazy weekend smiles and says, ‘sleep as much, for no one needs you to be up’, and I cannot deny. Plus, if I use this newfound time for self-care well, I may just become the next Miss Universe. But I guess the most satisfying part is just sitting still and letting memories scroll in slow motion and you pause and smile when the best of your moments together are playing.

Let them fly and see them soar.