My daughter left her bedroom light on when she moved out

Dear Delyara, My daughter moved out this morning. She is twenty-four, has a good job, and is moving in with the woman she loves, so there is nothing tragic about today. I helped carry boxes down three flights of stairs, complained about the weight of her books, and told her twice that the kettle should be unpacked first because everything feels manageable after tea. When we returned for the last box, the light in her bedroom was still on. She reached for the switch, then stopped and said, “Dad, you do it.” I laughed and told her she was being ridiculous. She said she knew. After she left, I stood in that room for almost an hour. There are pale squares on the walls where posters used to hang, one hair tie beneath the radiator, and a dent in the carpet where her bed stood since she was eleven. I finally turned off the light at 4:37 this afternoon. The room became immediately unfamiliar. My wife died when our daughter was sixteen, and for eight years the two of us learned how to be a smaller family without saying that was what we were doing. Tonight, I ate dinner alone for the first time. I am proud of her. I am also angry at the empty chair for making pride feel so much like grief.