Empty Nesting

With our youngest son out of the house almost a year now, the Bos Lady and I are empty nesters. I am told by societal norms that we must wait until 12 full months have passed until we are officially Empty Nesters. This is to ensure that none of the prodigals actually move back in, thereby making the empty nest a houseful of moot.

So while we wait for our formal title, we have many opportunities in the gentle, soothing silence to reminisce about our three children, now grown into fairly stable adults. And reminiscing is good, y’know? Reminiscing is all about remembering the good things that happened back in the day, and I think the good Lord directs our brains to work that way. Because it’s good for our psyche, our soul.

This morning, I was driving from one meeting to another and began to reminisce about Kevin, our youngest, and one memorable trip to British Columbia. (Well, for a quick second or three behind the wheel I thought that I do an awful lot of this driving from meeting to meeting, and then I thought about when the kids were young and they said all I did at work was read emails, and now I think all I do at work and away from work is meet. But I digress, even though all these words represent just a quick second or three behind the wheel.)

The vacation was a trip to BC, as I mentioned. We planned to visit my brothers and their families in Chilliwack and see the sights, including the Great Mount Cheam, the peak locals boast of in reverent tones usually reserved for Everest or Kilimanjaro. But this trip was to be different, or at least the drive would be. We had decided to forego the speed of the Coquihalla Highway, opting instead for a leisurely drive on the TransCanada Highway through Rogers Pass with scenic stops along the way.

It sounded like an idyllic and relaxing journey. One to reminisce about in years to come. And yet, the Bos Lady and I were worried because we would have Kevin with us. Sixteen-year old Kevin in the back seat, with an attitude fueled by a headful of teenage angst.

But it turned out we had nothing to fear but, well, fear itself. Apologies to FDR. For you see, Kevin riding backseat turned out not to be a depressing drive of despair, but an endless source of humour and goodwill. It was like God threw open a breaker in his heart and transformed him instantly into a new person. A vibrant person of endless wit and expressions and comedy. Oh, throughout our two-day journey to BC, we laughed and laughed some more until tears leaked from our eyes and our bellies could take no more!

It was a trip of a lifetime.

Today, Kevin is a fine young man who remains one of the funniest people we know. His physical comedy and impeccable sense of comedic timing continue to leave us in stitches. I often think about these fine qualities when I reminisce behind the wheel. Or in the silent lonesome stillness of evenings at home.

So, yeah…maybe reminiscing does has a scuff of sadness, too.