Can you believe that I dropped my oldest son off at college one month ago tomorrow? I didn’t think I’d survive the change. I mean part of me knew I would, and part of me was afraid I wouldn’t. You can read how it went HERE. I am happy to report that things have gotten easier for me. Even though I miss him a lot, I no longer cry at the drop of a hat.
I realized that I was treating the situation as if he had died. And he hasn’t. But I was treating it that way. Telling myself that Charlie would want me to be strong. What kind of mother am I if I just curl up and stop living because my son moved out? I’m better than this. And I willed myself through my first couple of weeks. God and I got really close again, trust me.
It’s not that I haven’t been planning for this. I have. My boys are a huge part of my life, and yet I have made sure they are not my total life lest I wake up feeling hopelessly alone when they leave. What I didn’t expect was the tidal wave of emotions. I didn’t expect to grieve.
But you know what? Grieving is okay.
We still facebook each other. He does call. And he has visited home once already. College is going great. He’s going to be just fine. And so am I.