Day #664 – It’s cold as hell and my child is leaving

Normally, I share a photo of something in nature on these posts. I haven’t actually been outside long enough to take a photo since last week, when it snowed.

We’ve had the dreaded COVID. 

That, and it is cold as hell out. 17 degrees and clear, my computer tells me. 

My child, who most likely was the one who infected us, is now past his 10 days and is better. My younger boy and I have a few more days until our 10 days are up. 

The van is packed. Just a few incidentals need to be put in before he and his buddy drive South. They are leaving in the wee hours of the morning so they can get to their new apartment in the earlier part of the day. 

It is surreal to consider that at this time tomorrow, my grown child will be in his own home, having dinner with roommates and probably his new business partner. He will have set up his bed, his TV and his XBox. He will have gone to the store at least once already. 

Full disclosure, I packed two rolls of toilet paper, a roll of paper towels, some Q tips and a pack of light bulbs into the car. I could just see them arrive at their destination and need to use the bathroom and have no supplies. Such a mom thing to do. 

I know that I will be sad more than once as I get used to not hearing him in the house, slamming the front door or banging the freezer door shut or leaving the kitchen fan on after charring a pizza in the toaster oven at 2 am.  I won’t hear the familiar roaring of his car engine as he comes down Main Street on his way home from work. Someone else will be hearing that noise, and know it’s him. Or maybe not, since he will be living in a city. 

He promises to visit frequently – his girlfriend is in NJ, after all – and he does have to return the van at some point. There is some solace in that. 

I am prouder than proud. I am sure he will succeed. And I am sure that he is ready to be on his own, doing his thing. And so I let go, as mothers before me have, for eons. And take a deep breath as our lives change and morph and grow. 

It’s cold as hell out and my child is leaving. My first baby is a grown man. 

Damn.