Me: you’re leaving? But wait …
*takes picture*
Me: I love you so much
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Me: what?
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Me: (internally) Wtf?
Me: (out loud) ok (followed by massive sobs and ugly crying noises)
Nic: bye for now

It all happened too quickly. Can I get a do over? Please.

(My status on Friday, the 6^th of January.)

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I knew it was going to hurt.  I had no clue how much.

Considering the state of me the day before,  work told me to please take the day if needed.  I knew as I arrived home Thursday that it would be needed.

To pull closer to your home, only to see your child’s car surrounded by cases and ‘I’m going away’ items well, let’s just say I was sobbing by the time I had put the car into neutral and pulled my emergency brake.

This was it.

The last night.

I walked, wet cheeked, into a home I had shared with him since High School.

Suitcases and vacuum sealed bags lay about the living room and kitchen.  His bedroom littered with debris from a lifetime together.

This was really happening.

I stood, purse in hand – unable to stop the tears.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The following morning was a blur.

After watching him drive off – I entered the house (no longer feeling like a home) and broke.

Into a thousand pieces.

I cried myself to sleep.

I woke.

I cried some more.

I finally found the strength to enter ‘his room’.

And wished I hadn’t.

I grabbed a pillow abandoned on his unmade bed.  Inhaled deeply and returned to bed with it.  I clutched it so tightly.

And slept again.

In between the crying and the sleeping was the worrying – he was after all, embarking on a 27 hour trip across country.

Physically navigating terrain he’d never navigated before.

Just as I was emotionally.

_______________________________________________________________________________

It’s been 5 days since he left.

My dog, Butters has been out of sorts.

I’ve been trying to be ‘chipper’ at work.  Albeit, quite unsuccessfully on Monday.  I had made it through the entire day – catching up, slammed.

I was crunching year-end numbers just as I was informed the copy machine was acting up.

“I can only focus on one thing … I’ll call the copy people in a minute.”

A boss responded, “No, finish what you’re doing, don’t worry.”

And, out of my mouth?

“But if I don’t call now, Nic won’t come!!”

Our copy guy’s name is Christian.

Freudian slip led to tears.

They continued to fall as I stayed a little late and got everything done while everyone trod about me on eggshells.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Another jarring moment was yesterday.  Nic had told me he would send photographs of where he was (having, obviously, safely arrived at his destination.)

I followed up and his response was:

“I haven’t been home yet. Lol I’ve. Been out all day”

Ouch.

Wasn’t ready for that sentence.

Home.

His home.

Not ‘our’ home.

And I’m going to have to get used to that.

I’m told repeatedly by people with the best intentions that his flight from the nest is a testament to my successful raising of him.

But I’m still trying to accept that.  And, it’s hard.  And it hurts.

However, I’m also very proud of him for taking such a ginormous step and embarking on a new chapter of his life.

For following his heart (literally, he left to be with his girlfriend of over three years.)

For bravely starting from scratch in a place he’s only visited a couple of times, and accepting the challenge to ‘adult’.

I’ll always be here for him.

I’ll always miss him.

And perhaps most importantly, always love him enough to let go.