Miss him

My son spent quite some time constructing a fake miniature golf course with all the blocks and train tracks.  When he finally finished, he announced with a flourish, “Behold, my super cool maze of awesomeness!”

And from the kitchen, where I stood with my hands in dishwater, a thought nearly felled me:  I’m going to miss that kid.  Even as I type those words, the thought of this boy grown and gone from my house brings tears to my eyes.

Because as surely as a gray hair coils from the part in my hair, he is going to turn eleven and then twenty and before I know it, he’ll be graduating from college and moving all his Calvin and Hobbs books to an apartment.  I’m going to miss his sunny disposition, his hilarious comments on life, his cheery boyhood.

I’m going to miss that kid.  If I could, I’d freeze-dry him, but I doubt he’d be as funny and cute dehydrated and tucked away in a Zip-loc bag.  So I’ll just have to miss him.  (But I think I’ll try to miss him after he’s gone instead of now.)

6 thoughts on “Miss him

  1. I feel that way about both my kids. My daughter talks about moving far, far away to go to school. My son wants to live in Texas and attend seminary. Now, we may end up in Texas, but the thought of both kids a PLANE RIDE away, rather than a short car ride, or *ahem* a walk away is heart-wrenching.

    Yeah, I guess we’ve gotta stop missing them already, huh?


  2. The kid I’m going to miss the most is my son who is now a 17 year old senior in HS. We live overseas and the idea that next fall he will be in college in the states and I will be an ocean away brings a tear to my eye every time.


  3. Join my club – my second oldest has taken up residence in Holland, no less. I barely remember what it was like to have him around here. My oldest lives a short 45 minute drive away, but it’s still far enough that we only see him about twice a month.


  4. Oh goodness. This is exactly how I feel about my youngest son, who is getting ready to turn 12. We just “get” each other. His sense of humor makes me laugh out loud–so articulate and insightful. We like the same songs on the radio. He unashamedly kisses my cheek in public. He insists that I stop whatever I am doing so that he can replay something on TV that I “need” to see. He was a total breeze to give birth to and to raise. He graduates from sixth grade this spring. I think I might need to be sedated to get through the ceremony. : )

    Of course, testosterone poisoning is getting ready to kick in and we may hit a few speedbumps, but I know his heart is bound to mine in a way that will always be special.

    I wish we lived closer. I think they would be very good friends.


  5. Been there, done that… heh. I feel you. I so cherish those memories. I’ll add, however, adult children rock. It’s a whole new dimension of amazing emotion.


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