Half-Empty Nest, Full Heart

A Reflection on Family, Change, and Returning to Work.

Our daughter returned to university this past weekend. And just like that, we’ve become what I’m calling “half-empty nesters”, one child still at home, the other stepping into her next chapter.

It’s made me think more about the kinds of loss we carry, not just the dramatic ones that knock us off our feet, but the smaller, quieter ones that gather over time. The everyday leavings. The shifts in rhythm. The soft undoings.

The Quiet Losses We Don’t Talk About

I’ve been reading Necessary Losses by Judith Viorst, a book about how growth and grief are more intertwined than we often admit. She writes:

“We lose not only through death, but also by leaving and being left,
by changing and letting go and moving on…
The loss of romantic dreams, impossible expectations, illusions of safety —
and the loss of our own younger self,
the self that thought it always would be unwrinkled and invulnerable and immortal.”

Her words reminded me: change often asks us to loosen our grip. There’s a stillness that follows letting go, an in-between space, quiet and necessary.

Viorst continues:

“These losses are a part of life; universal, unavoidable, inexorable.
And these losses are necessary
because we grow by losing and leaving and letting go.”

Winter, Family, and the In-Between

The last six weeks have been deeply family-focused. And it’s winter, a season that invites inwardness. There’s a strong part of me that wants to curl up like a bear and hibernate.

But maybe this quiet stretch of time is here for a reason. A moment to draw close, to let go, and then gently to return. To myself. To the work. And to the possibility of using this season as a catalyst for growth.

The house feels slightly off-kilter. Her tea mug is still in its usual place, but the mornings have lost their rhythm. There’s a hush in the air; not sadness exactly, just the quiet stretch of space where someone used to be.

We’ve done this before. We’ll do it again. And in the meantime, I’m back in the studio. Editing, curating, and shaping a body of work that’s been quietly distilling over the last six months — one that will debut at Contra (Open Studios @ August House) at the end of August. 🎟 Tickets available here.

Learning to Trust the Return

I’m learning again, and always — to trust in the slow rhythm of return. To honour what we leave behind, and to welcome what’s still unfolding.