The house never seems more empty than after the holidays.
All the Christmas clutter is gone and decorations stowed again on basement shelves. But that doesn't account for the emotional emptiness.
The kids and grandkids also are gone. Somehow, an after-holiday home seems a lot less homey.
As a person who always has cherished "alone time," it's surprising to realize how quickly solitude can swell into sorrow. Why does being alone sound so inviting when a shade too much of it is so very lonely?