I asked him to clean and vacuum his room before he left, but I still found three bags of garbage and an assortment of dishes left behind. He was anxious to join his three new roommates, his old friends who are already all moved in. I don’t blame him at all, and just laughed as I took the first load upstairs.
These moments often catch us by surprise, an inevitable and looked forward to reality, and then departure comes and regret sets in. Maybe there should have been more acknowledgment of the moment, more celebration, some thought that this could be the pivotal goodbye and hello to adulthood.
He turned 21 not quite two months ago, but it’s difficult to pinpoint independence. He’ll probably come home again for his extended holiday because I buy the groceries here and he has free reign of the fridge. But nothing is for sure and we just don’t know. His independence is there and the free food is here and sometimes adults still want their mom.
I was teary when I caught him downstairs mid packing. He asked if I was ok. I said simply I didn’t want to miss marking an important moment and we hugged. He’s not been a hugger but he held me for a long time.
I told his neck I’m glad he’s leaving and happy with where he’s going and we’ll all be ok. I’m letting go and celebrating my free reign of the basement. We each win our own freedom in his leaving. He wipes a few tears too and then I grabbed a couple dishes and headed upstairs. I’ve got guests booked for the space and preparations to complete but the empty feeling in the house will linger for a while.
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