The Empty Nest Syndrome: A Moving Story

With our daughter, a post-college conservation biologist, gearing up to accomplish her career goals at 23, and our son, returning home to attend community college after a fun (a little too fun) freshman year away, we hardly have an empty house. There are still animals, furniture, 30+ years of momentos, not to mention the accumulated things my mother just couldn't get rid of after downscaling from her monstrous home.

But as of this month, Peter and I aren't there, in New York. I mean, we still own it, our driver's licenses use that address, and we'll have absentee ballots come November using that address, but we spend most of our time in St. Croix.

He's been working here as a consultant since January. He's come back to NY each month for only 7-10 days and as of this month, St. Croix is where I am, with him.

It was a grueling nine months, as many of you know after reading this blog. And after much deliberation, we've decided this is the right place for us, at this time.

It's a hell of an opportunity, really, for us both. His skills as an engineer have been put to the test and he's excited and enlivened by this career change. It feels good to accomplish something and be appreciated for your efforts.

For me, I have the luxury of not having to deal with the clutter of our lives, the demands of our pets, the constant worry of things like, if the kids are fed, dogs have gone out, cars are in working order. I have a beautiful house to stay in and the mellowest dog; who doesn't bark, isn't solicitous, is house broken, and is happy to lie at my feet while I write.

But in fairness, I created the havoc that enslaved me to that house and those dogs. I was stressed and unhappy even while in that house by myself.

So, while I technically don't have an empty nest, Peter and I live as if we do. Because for now, this house in St. Croix has freed me to finally leave our accumulated nest behind.