The moment I was dreading arrived.
I can’t say it came on unexpectedly, but it still struck me by surprise. Not 24 hours after earning his license, #2 Son says to me: “I need a ride to Thompson’s house.”
Coupled with the knowledge that he was going to the movies that evening, and was using one of the cars for that, I summoned up courage that I didn’t know I had and reluctantly lent him my car. I gave him some very definite instructions about what he could do and not do, and advice on the physical consequences of any damage to my car, including his smoking in it, as I gave him the keys and he drove off.
I wondered how many times he was going to bring it to a car wash, how many times he would fill it up after using it, and how many times I was going to wonder: “How many times?”
Letting go is very difficult. I have heard of empty nest syndrome, but never experienced it before, but as I gazed out into my driveway, and saw the emptiness of the space occupied by my car, a tear started to well up in the corner of my eye.
Pray for my car, please.
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1 comment:
If #2 Son's anything like I was at that age, you'll know exactly how many times he fills it up with gas -- every time he asks you for gas money.
Sounds like you're handling it well!
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