The Empty Nest

When my grandchildren moved out last year, I thought it would be just another stage of life. But every time I open the fridge to find no trace of their leftovers or smell that same old clean scent instead of the one with crayon and play-doh stuck in the cracks, I feel this dull ache deep inside. My kids say they'll visit more often now, but it doesn't ease the loneliness. At night when the house is quiet, I hear myself think again for the first time since my children were born. It's just me here, and sometimes that feels like too much to handle.