The Happy Chaos When Grown Kids Return Home

I had begun the letting go, the leaving in increments a few years ago: The brave good-byes in college dorms, followed by tears. The last-minute hugs before Uber rides to the airport.  The packing up of stuff left behind.

I taught them to leave, but I was left with almost empty rooms where memories lived like ghosts. Old baseball jerseys shared space in my son’s closet with a box of golf trophies and a Coach’s Award for Excellence. Yoga books shared shelves with figure skating medals in my da...