Thursday, September 20, 2018

We Left the Boy




We left the boy.
It was time,
I suppose.

The husband and I got back into our car full of flattened boxes and
microwave shaped Styrofoam
and the empty seat he sat in
and we just
drove
south.

The two burritos we ate on the way home were cheaper than three, we noticed.
We paused a minute before we started to eat them.
It seemed, we were waiting for the boy.
But, of course, he was
where we left
him.

We drove home listening to the legendary music of our past.
We knew all the words and never once had to sing swear.
We drove home lamenting out loud, between songs,
"I hope he makes nice friends."
We muttered things like that.


The house was quiet and still when we arrived home.
 His room was bare and tidy;  the posters were gone.
There were dust outlines of things he had packed.
The leftover soccer trophies stared back at me.



I felt mommy empty when I climbed into bed.
I logged on, real quick, just to check
things online.



The local social media was jarring.

She died.
A week after him.
A year after the other boy.


So young.


Suicides.






They were from the boy's high school and he knew their names and faces.

I took my boy to college and posted photos of his new beginning.
I scrolled down the page and saw photos of their past.
I posted my proud moments and my hopes for his future.

I scrolled down and was immersed in their utter despair.




I've sent my son to college.
The husband and I awake each morning to an empty nest.
People seem to think we are in the midst of adversity.
People seem to think this is a hardship.
People seem worried.


They have no idea.




Thank God I get to miss my son.
Thank God he gets to have this future.
Thank God I get to wonder if his roommate is someone I would approve of.
Thank God I get to hope he'll study a bit more than he plays video games.
Thank God I get to not so gently remind him to eat a vegetable or two.
Thank God he will be annoyed with me reminding him to do that.
Thank God I get to worry if he found someone to eat lunch with.
Thank God I get to bug him to join an intramural sports team
Thank God I get to post pictures of his

dorm room

and not his



obituary.







We left the boy. We did.
I'm sure I'll be plenty sad about it.
I'm sure it will be an adjustment.
I'm sure I'll miss him, quite a lot.




And I thank God for that.