I've spent my last few days—not parenting...

And, just like that... I have an empty house after taking both daughters to college. Empty nest. What an accurate phrase.

The whoosh of 21 years with children in my house is a memory storm of naps and stuffed animals; car pools and permission slips; sleep overs and picky eaters; shopping trips and car keys. And, "just like that" ...it's done. I have spent my last few days not parenting.

Everything in the house reminds me of time that is gone. I see the ghosts of my girls in every corner. It's a cast of children of every age that I seem to have lost. My tiny baby girls, the big eyed toddlers, inquisitive youth... In a busy store, I'll hear "mom!" called out, and I realize with sad fascination,—this time, the call is not for me. So, I'm feeling a bit lost in myself. My thoughts are loud and bossy because there's no other noise to drown them out. I'm alone. It's a bit overwhelming.

I know this is total self pity. I've nothing to complain about. My girls are healthy. They are setting out on their "what's next" and I wouldn't wish it to be different in any way. They are happy and adventurous. I've no complaints. I'm not complaining. But this new silence is too loud.

So I'm going to investigate my "next". What should I do with this new found time and empty nest? Can will I make a difference.

I'm a graphic designer/illustrator that is spends a lot of time in my home studio. I love to work, but can feel this empty silence tugging at my productivity. It's very distracting and seems to make my motivation a bit leaky. I'm thinking I will need to something that will help me get out of this quiet lethargy and into something that makes a comfortable bustling noise.

It can't be a new haircut (although I've got one scheduled this very day...) or time at a spa, or shopping. I can't just "fill" time. My head seems to know when I'm just be placated.

Something I'm certain of is Time. With time folks get used to just about anything. "This too shall pass" But, I don't want to just settle for an eventual adjustment to this new quiet. I don't want to get stale and just become part of the malaise.

For now, I think I let myself be a bit sad. My girls are pretty neat people. They filled my house with energy and a brightness that isn't replaced by a good book or a random glass of wine.

It's quiet now, but I know there's music and applause, laughter and conversation somewhere. I need to trust that yesterday wasn't my highlight. Tomorrow is mine, still.

Life is Everyday. I plan to celebrate even if it's only with a whisper today.