Being of a certain age, I have read a few posts on empty nest syndrome. Typically, this means you have raised children, not killed them in their teenage years, and seen them out of the house as semi or fully functioning adults. Hurrah for us. But given that my children have boarded since young, I knew I would be somewhat immune to the emotional carnage being experienced by my peers. That was until my last child left home for the bright lights of university.
Actually, his turning 18 and leaving home was against a backdrop of me, his mother, falling ill suddenly and being hospitalised (twice). Sure, I understood the momentum of his turning of age and leaving home but, truthfully, I was powerless to care about much outside of surviving two operations so I could continue to be a bother to my children. A job I love.