Well, it has arrived—this year marks our first as “Empty Nesters.”
As the holiday season approaches, we feel that familiar, gentle ache. Our amazing kids have built wonderful families and lives of their own, and this year, their holiday plans are beautifully centered around them. And though we know this is the natural order of things, it’s also a little heartbreaking.
We spent decades pouring every fiber of our beings into raising them, preparing them for this exact moment: to go out and build their own happy, content, and successful lives. We should be bursting with pride—and a part of us truly is. But at the same time, we find ourselves sitting here, realizing that the holiday scene will look vastly different: just us, Mom and Dad.
The gigantic food spreads, the presents overflowing onto the floor, the constant, joyous chaos—those memories seem impossibly far away. Looking around, we can’t help but wonder where the time went. The house feels quieter, and even side-by-side with the love that started it all, a wave of loneliness can creep in.
But let’s pause and reframe that feeling. We are not just sad; we are incredibly proud. Our children are out there “adulting,” building their own cherished memories, traditions, and families. And while it’s okay to feel a twinge when some of our old traditions make way for their new ones, we can trust that the best parts—the unconditional love, the warmth, the joy—are built into the foundation of their new lives. We can celebrate the legacy we created.
This empty space we feel is simply a need for a new kind of fulfillment.
We don’t need to be afraid to let go completely. We have earned the right to step back, to put us first, and to define this next incredible chapter. If an impromptu trip somewhere appeals, why not take it? If the kids need us, we know they will call, and we’ll be there in a heartbeat. But for now, we have the freedom to enjoy ourselves without guilt.
This is a classic condition, one many parents feel, and it doesn’t have to be miserable. While every logical part of our brain says we should be overjoyed, our hearts long for the sensory details of the past: the laughter in the kitchen, the parades on TV, the Christmas Eve excitement. This longing is simply love in a new form.
We longed for this freedom, and now that it’s here, we are not lost—we are free to rediscover ourselves. Let’s use this time not to dwell on what’s missing, but to create brand-new, smaller, more intentional traditions—just for us. This is the moment to nurture the love story that started it all and build a holiday that is uniquely, happily ours.
Go easy on yourselves, hold on to the pride, and let’s start dreaming up our new holiday adventure.