We brought Oldest Son to the university today. We timed everything perfectly: no lines, early morning good attitudes and the rain only started to come down in buckets after we had unloaded the truck.
We unpacked, hung, folded and stored everything. The room is small but good for two boys. OS's roommate and family arrived just when it was time for us to go. I was so good and held the blubbering until a few minutes ago when Hubby had to run out to do an errand.
When I hugged OS I did get choked up and I don't know if he understood my words when I said I love you. Hubby said something stupid (boy stupid - it didn't have anything to do with me being upset) and they laughed, hugged and made plans for next week. One of Hubby's jobs is 20 minutes away from the school so they are planning to have lunch.
I was so glad it was pouring rain when we walked outside. I am positive no one was fooled that the mascara running down my face was from the rain, (damn red-crying-nose), but I felt better with the rain running down my face.
I didn't speak much on the way home. I tried a few times but my voice would crack or disappear unexpectedly. Hubby didn't hassle me but he doesn't understand why I am not overjoyed for my son and the move toward "our future without kids." (I will never be without kids, God willing).
I really am so proud of OS, he is a wonderful human being and now on his way to becoming an excellent high school English teacher. I know he will be responsible in his decisions and study habits. I am so proud of the young man he has become and have no doubt he will continue on this path. He is ready to be independent. This is the way we raised him.
I am just being selfish. And sad. I like having him around every day. I like that he wants to talk to me about this and that. I like how he laughs outloud in the other room at Seinfeld reruns. I like my kid.
Guess I'm not one of those moms who feels excitement at getting a kid out of the house. Nope, not even close.
No pictures were taken today. I left my bag and camera in the truck and every time I thought about taking a picture that burning lump in my throat would make it hard to breathe.
I know this is all good. I really do. And I will rejoice in his stories and successes. I will treasure the times he thinks to call his old mama. But, for a few minutes, I am allowing myself to weep into my hot cup of tea. Ice cubes on the eye lids later will repair whatever damage I create.