The boy-child left home earlier this year. Always an independent soul, he has adapted well to living in a flat and seems happy — if not as well-fed as he was at home.
Do I sound like a bad parent if I say I don’t miss him?
To qualify that: I don’t miss the conflict and tension that characterized the months before he moved out. And while I am still quietly celebrating a full fridge, an empty laundry basket and a cheerful offspring, I am a little nostalgic. My child has grown up and our relationship has changed.
I do miss the funny, energetic child who filled my life for 18 years, but celebrate the capable and self-sufficient adult he has become.