Echoes of Home

The house felt quieter than it had in years. Amber paced in the kitchen, stalling from cleaning off the kitchen counters. They weren’t very messy as it’s just her living there now. Her eyes drifted towards Kate’s empty chair around the dining table, where she used to sit every night for dinner. It had been roughly two months since Kate had left for college, which doesn’t seem very long; however, for a lonely mother, it is. To her, the house still felt like it was holding its breath. 

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the counter, snapping Amber out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen—it was Kate.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Amber answered, trying to make it seem like she didn’t just run to grab her phone.

“Hey, Mom.” Kate’s voice sounded somewhat tired, but a warmth always made Amber feel connected to her, even from miles away. “How’s everything there?”

For as long as Kate can remember, it’s always been her and her mom. Her father left them years ago, and Amber never remarried. Kate very much enjoyed it, though. Her relationship with her mother grew substantially over the years as a result of their spending so much alone time together, and their bond became untreatable, Making Kate’s move to college even harder.

“It’s quiet,” Amber said with a slight chuckle. “I miss the noise around here, to be honest. How about you? How are all your classes!”

There was a brief pause before Kate spoke again, her tone quieter and softer this time. “It’s a lot… Do you know? Everything is happening fast; I’m worried about falling behind, Mom.”

Amber felt a familiar ache in her chest. She briefly reminisced on her time in college. Although she didn’t move too far from her parents, she felt that same overwhelming storm hovering over her wherever she went. That overwhelming swirl of new people, new classes, and new living space was enough to stress anyone out and make them question their belonging. 

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, sweetheart,” Amber replied, her voice soft and comforting. “You don’t have to have it all figured out immediately.”

Kate let out a small sigh. Hearing your mother's voice is always relieving. “I know, but I can’t help but think I should be doing a better job. I should’ve adjusted by now, Mom. I don’t wanna let you down. It already cost you so much to get me here.”

Amber’s heart tightened. It was a sentiment she’d never wanted her daughter to feel. “Kate, you don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m proud of you, no matter what. You’re growing; growing doesn’t always come with a clear path. Just take things one day at a time.”

There was another pause, and Amber could almost hear Kate thinking, weighing her following words. “I just miss you, Mom,” she finally said, her voice shaky. “I miss being home; I miss my high school friends and classes.”

“I miss you too,” Amber said, the words coming easier now. “But you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing—finding your way and starting this new chapter for yourself. And I know you’re strong enough to handle it.”

Kate was quiet momentarily, and Amber felt like she could see her sitting in her dorm room, anxiously tapping her foot, the weight of everything pressing on her shoulders. It wasn’t easy to let go, but Amber knew that letting Kate figure things out on her own was the only way to help her truly grow.

“I’ll be okay,” Kate said softly as if convincing herself. “I just need to remind myself that sometimes it’s okay not to have all the answers.”

“That’s exactly right, sweetie; I’m proud of you for saying that,” Amber said with a smile. “It’s okay to take your time. Everyone there is in the same boat; remember that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Kate replied, her voice quieter now, the day's exhaustion settling in. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much. Don’t forget that. Home is always here whenever you need it.”

The conversation ended with a promise to talk again soon, and Amber hung up the phone, staring at her empty metal rectangle, now empty of Kate’s voice. The house was still quiet, but a sense of peace was now settling over her. Kate was finding her way, and even though it meant the distance between them was growing, their bond was still as strong as ever.

The house felt quieter than it had in years.

A few more words were said, and eventually, they said their goodbyes. Amber was then left with the lingering silence again. However, the quiet felt different this time; a wave of peace flowed through Amber’s body. The silence wasn’t hollow and daunting; it was reassuring, carrying the warmth of their conversation within her.

Amber sat back at the table, her eyes slowly drifting towards Kate’s dining room chair. Although the ache of Kate’s absence will never go away, Amber finds peace knowing that Kate is growing, learning, and adapting to adulthood, just like she was meant to.  Amber began looking at some old photos of Kate, scrolling on her phone for over twenty minutes.

She scrolled over a photo of Kate at her high school graduation—a moment of pride and bittersweetness for Amber. She zoomed in on her daughter, realizing that sparkle she had in her eyes, excited about where her future would take her. After further assessing it, Amber considered the fear and uncertainty in Kate’s eyes—uncertain about where her future would take her. Similar to now, Amber remembers consoling her about these worries, similar to what she’s done now.

Finally, Amber got up from the couch and moved down the hall. She passed Kate's room and paused for a moment. She opened the door, and that same scent of her daughter still permeated the air. The room was a picture frozen in time—her bed unrumpled, some books still stacked on the desk, a sweater draped over the chair. It was comforting and melancholy.

Taking a deep breath, Amber backed away and quietly closed the door. She moved to her room, her steps echoing quietly through the silent house. She changed into pajamas and climbed under the covers, allowing the day's events to wash over her.

She lay in bed, thinking about all the small moments that had made up their life together—the kitchen laughter, the movie nights, the way Kate always placed her coffee cup slightly too near the edge of the counter. Those moments were memories now, but they remained with her.

She turned off her lamp, laid her head on her pillow, and closed her eyes, alone with her thoughts. The house was quieter than it had been in years.