A blessing on his head

It's a custom
To put one's hands
On the heads of one's children
And bless them
On Erev Shabbat, Sabbath Eve

Even our son,
not terribly "into" being Jewish lately
Complains if we forget to bless him (neither of us grew up with that custom)
When he's home

But how often is he home, these days?

An empty nest
Means no child to bless

It feels weird

Something's missing
And always will be
Because he's grown

And now, on Erev Shabbat
It's just the two of us alone