One less passenger in the car

driving off on his own

He's off. After a flat tire start to the day, my first born was delivered to JMU, his new home for four years. To be honest, I am doing better than I thought I would, and better than he thought I would too, as he told me in front of his roommates family. " I thought she'd be worse" was the quote.
I have a few idea why I don't feel the earth beneath my feet has given way. First and quite incidentally, #2 started moving into #1's room before we even left the driveway. Looking back this was a good thing, I ran into another recently launched mom and she said the worst was walking by his empty room. Not an issue here.
And as you know I am a big fan of Mother Nature. She prepared us brilliantly. The day before he left I was helping him pack, " Oh I only have 7 pair of underwear", " NOW!, TODAY! you tell me this!" I not so calmly responded. " Today is the day I am packing" was his very calm reply incensing me all the more. Just then a friend texts me asking how it was going. My text back was " My sadness is tempered by my desire to ring his neck". I also called his dad, who was on stand by to help load the van and suggested he come sooner rather than later as there may be No child to send to college if I was left alone with him for much longer.
I also changed my room around, and painted for the first time in my life ( lame I know), and planned a dinner with friends, and sobbed sometimes, and signed up for trainings I have long wanted to do but was too busy parenting to have time for.
Making lunch for two hurt the first time, and the first time we sat down for dinner I noticed the dog was missing. Instead of her usual spot between Alex's chair and my own, she was upstairs lying by his bed in his new room. She knows. I wish I could bring her down when we go to visit in 34 days (who's counting?), but alas not possible.
#2 has taken over Alex's request for a picture a day of the dogs, and I am trying very hard to own my mother's mantra of " No news is good news".  And there are times, with our own busy lives that it feels right to have things the way they are. Then I heard his voice and had to hang up cause I started to cry. I am not sure how long I can go without laying eyes on my son, but we have not settled into a routine yet, he needs a week or two to get the feel of the place before I ask more of him, it's just how he works. We have sent pictures of food we have eaten, he has complained about the " girls" umbrella I packed for him, it was brown not black (who knew?) . He's already made plans to not come straight home at Thanksgiving break ( deep breath, don't let him hear your gasp), and he has figured out a whole lot. I am happy for him, and that beats my sad any day of the week, even if the car is a little lighter.
,

So I guess this is it then

7 days and counting til my oldest bird is out of the nest. This is the moment right? The one I was supposed to be thinking about and striving for since 11:03am  on February 17, 1995. Since the Dr with the red rimmed glasses handed the messy bundle over to me, who, with his blurry newborn eyes, established and intense " Are you my mother?" stare at me.
I have certainly seen the back of his head way more than I have seen his beautiful brownish eyes in the past four years. I guess just getting ready for next week. lots of practice, I have had with not seeing his face.
This is the moment I have been getting him ready for, to make his own decisions. Like when he was three and had two weeks of no daytime diapers and when getting ready for bed one night said to me, " Do I have to wear a diaper to bed?" and I said, " Well if you are ready to not wet your bed you can go without one," and he replied," OK, I am ready" and he was. It's amazing how my mind remembers these details and yet has lost so many others.

This is the moment he has been pulling for since the day he was 12 and working on my computer in my office and I asked him for something and his reply was 'It's MY life!". And I covered my smile with my hand because I wanted that movement to independence for my far too compliant and obedient first born.

And yet, while on vacation last week, the snarly, impatient mini~monster I have been tolerating made room for my boy to come back to me, with his out of no-where bear hugs and goofy " Mudder" when he wanted my attention. I know we will be in each others lives, and I know the importance of the parent child relationship, heck I make a living helping people who have decades ago left home unravel the ties that bind them to their parents. I also know, things will never be the same again. That the seat to my right at the table, where my oldest grunted at me for so long, or tolerated my game of  " High's & Low's"or sat when we played Golf or Hearts will be empty. And when he does return to resume his place he will be different, He will have had experiences I am sure I do not want to hear about for at least 5 years. And I will be different, having found my bearings after the nest tipped from the weight of him leaving it. We will have to find a place for him again that does not unbalance all of us.

#2 is ready to pounce on his room, it is practical, yet feels too soon, Plus#1 is refusing to take down his " decorations", which amount to several hundred carefully cut out pictures from his sports illustrated magazines. There are moments I cannot breathe. "He He Hwoo" isn't cutting it, like it didn't cut it 18 1/3 years ago.

I have fretted for years over what my parting words to him will be, something meaningful that he will surely forget in his anxiety filled state I was thinking,, but now I think, no. This is good. This is what we worked for, this is what I hoped for for him. It has been a pleasure.

It does look like she pushed him a little bit, must have been one of those defiant days