As the youngest of three children, “home for the holidays” is a bittersweet term for me. Ever since my oldest brother left for college eight years ago, the holidays don’t have the same childhood magic that they used to.
Before any of us kids went to college, we would have family friends over during Thanksgiving, potluck style. My parents are Chinese immigrants, so our American traditions were learned at school and brought into the house by my siblings and me. The older kids would always help bake the turkey at the party, while the younger kids chased each other around, causing chaos.
I remember that first year when my oldest brother went to college. Our family friends had all of their kids in college by that time, so it was just our immediate family. My brother decided not to come home for Thanksgiving due to plane ticket prices and instead decided to take a road trip with his college friends to NYC. I remember me and my middle brother tried to bake a turkey on our own without my older brother’s assistance and planning. We ended up with an inconsistent turkey, dry and overcooked on the top and frozen on the bottom.
Each subsequent year became less and less festive. Then five years later, I was the only one home. Despite the holiday magic disappearing, my brothers still had the opportunity to return to their home in the town where they grew up in. They could see their high school friends, spend time with our family pets, and do the same things they used to do at home. When they came back for the holidays, my parents and I were always there.
Since I left for college last year, it’s felt even lonelier. I would come home to just my parents and a silent residence. Moving into my apartment at Davis officially solidified that. Now, my childhood home is just an empty house.
My dad has decided to renovate the house, and he’s thinking about renting it out. Logically, this all makes sense. It’s an empty house which only we occupy for approximately a quarter of the year.
However, when I think about my high school friends, most of them are the first to go to college. They get to have that homey house for the holidays. They’re not moving anytime soon. They get to have what my brothers had — a home base to return to.
People seem to think that “empty nest syndrome” affects parents only, but I’m beginning to think that I’ve experienced it with my parents. I’ve seen my childhood home turn into a house.
I wish I knew all these renovations were going to happen before they did. Maybe I would have cherished my home a little bit more. This Thanksgiving, I’ll be returning to a packed-up, empty house. My room is in boxes. Our family pets have gone. I can see my high school friends, but I know it just won’t be the same.
All this to say, if you’re returning home this Thanksgiving or holiday season, cherish it because you’ll never know when your home will just become a house.