Sunday, June 20, 2010
ton of bricks
My son is moving out in two days. He hasn't packed yet and shows no inclination to do so. I am beside myself. Went to see "Toy Story 3" today. The boy in it is 17 now and about to leave for college. He packs up his toys and the story ensues. Absolutely heartbreaking. Spent most of the movie crying my eyes out, chunky tears sliding down my cheeks, trying to keep it together. Could see my youngest son glancing over at me periodically, knowing I was a basket case. An absolutely wonderful movie that wore me out. When it ended and the credits were rolling, I couldn't move. I could feel the sadness from my teenage son sitting two seats over. I knew it had grabbed him and held on. This was his life, this was my life. Today was the first day I have let myself feel absolutely miserable about this whole thing. The denial has left the building, I am in this heart and soul. And I am squeezed dry.
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I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you Wendy: It will be mind-numbingly painful. I know. I've been there over and over. I had to send my son to stay with my mom for finacial reasons when he was about 14. I sobbed for days. Everytime he came to visit or I visited him, I cried. He returned to me for his last three years of school and now he's off for good to start his life. I still miss him, but I finally got to a place where I knew he had to be away from mommy to grow into manhood. God forbid he sticks around, works at 7-11 and plays X-Box Live until his late 40's. Most mothers would gladly take a bullet for their kids. We just don't expect to still be alive after we do it.
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