I’VE READ so much about it, and now it has happened.

I am sitting in an empty nest.

My eldest daughter left home for university two years ago and now her sister has done the same. They are both beyond what would be a comfortable and inexpensive travelling distance for a day trip, so I won’t get to see them until the end of term. And even then, I might not - my eldest daughter has been on her summer holiday for the past four months yet, between travelling, working and visiting friends, has spent just a couple of weeks with us.

So my husband and I are back where we started, just the two of us.

I know all about Empty Nest Syndrome and the emotional and physical symptoms that come with it - feeling constantly sad or low, difficulty concentrating or making decisions, feeling you can’t cope, irritability, as well as aches and pains, sleeping badly, changes in appetite and having no energy.

And when I ponder the idea that they may never again live in our home, it fills me with fear, sadness and dread.

But then again, I can already see its advantages.

This week, for the first time in years, I have not uttered the words: “Turn that down!” I have not said “Shut that door,” or “Switch off that light.”

Neither have I had to pick up screwed up, wet towels from the floor, move pairs of smelly tights from wherever they were dropped, or collect hair grips and bobbles from the mouth of the Hoover.

I have not had to go on my nightly patrol, turning off phone chargers and flipping switches connected to other electrical appliances.

I have not opened the fridge to find that almost everything I bought the previous day has disappeared.

And I have not had to jump in my car on my day off because someone missed the bus to work.

In all, having only myself and my husband to think about, life is all of a sudden calmer, less frenetic. It is, dare I say it, quite nice.

Not having my daughters to think about means that we can address things we have had to put on hold for years - properly tidy the house, tackle the ever-present mountain of laundry and - after more than a decade living in near-squalor - decorate the house.

But my children having gone does not mean that our parental responsibilities vanish.

As they grow, children place different demands upon parents. Each life stage brings a new set of problems as well as rewards. Now my children are students, living away from home, there are still issues to address. Last year, my eldest daughter lost her mobile phone on the first night back at university and I was called upon to claim on insurance, and this term I have already had to help my youngest daughter to resolve a problem with her new student bank account.

I think my youngest daughter will behave in the same way as my eldest, and only ring when there is a money or health-related issue that she cannot solve on her own.

I miss my daughters, but I encouraged them to leave home and carve out new lives - I would not be happy if they had chosen to remain here. Moving away will give them confidence and independence. It will also broaden their horizons.

‘I love it here’ my youngest daughter texted from her new home. I was so pleased, although when I see her empty room, I do feel sad.

I have also told them both that, should things fail to work out, wherever they are, there is always a bed for them here.