Wednesday, August 20, 2008
He has moved out of the house, and that's a big, big thing.
He is the first-born, so we have no experience with this. The family gathered 'round him for the move.
I'm proud of him, because even though this is scary, he seems determined to gut it out.
We helped him set up his half of the room and he seemed ready to settle in (sort of). It was the culmination of a lot of activity: organizing, buying stuff, packing, moving, unpacking, all that.
He seemed much better than a couple of guys I saw, one crying while hugging his dad and another sitting alone in a courtyard with his head in his hands, heaving big sighs and unsuccessfully attempting to hold back tears.
My son and his roommate chose one another. They were in high school together, but weren't running buddies. We'll see how that works out.
His mother was very businesslike about all this until we got home. Then it hit her hard. He's not coming home tonight. Or tomorrow.
And she cried. Then she cried some more. And a little more.
She actually said, "It feels empty in here." Ouch.
I feel helpless. Everybody will be okay.
With one less person in the house, can we expect a reduction in the water bill and the electric bill? I know there's an extra spot in the garage now, and that's a good thing.
Now I will brace myself for the time all of this sneaks up on me and Mama will say "I told you so."
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