My boys said
goodbye to each other on Monday night.
It was after a lovely celebratory meal for
Colin’s 21st
birthday. He, of course, had pizza. The rest of us had lovely authentic Italian
dishes. After the blowing out of the
candle on the obligatorily proffered piece of house tiramisu, we all got up to
say our goodbyes. Pictures were
taken. Julia’s annual hug given to
Colin, offered once each year on birthdays – his relative stiffness matched
only by her uncomfortableness at being touched (Edwin clearly received ALL of
the hugging genes that completely skipped Julia’s gene pool.) And then it was time for the big boys to say
goodbye – embracing like young men do – quick bear hug followed by the back
thump. Colin wanted me to take a picture
of them. Hugging. Briefly perplexed, I tried to snap a photo on
the phone that wouldn’t cooperate with a flash.
The hug happened again. And then
again.
“See you at
Thanksgiving,” they say to each other.
And I feel a little twinge.
“This is the
longest we will have ever been apart,” they say to me. And I feel like I have been punched in the
stomach.
Colin will
start his 4th year of college in September. Colin chose a school 65 miles away. In Los Angeles. Which, to be fair, could either be 1 hour
away or 3 ½ hours away, depending on
traffic and the time of day. We saw him
often during that first year away from home.
Aidan will
start his second year of college on Monday – his junior year, according to the
transcripts and thanks to taking so many college classes in high school – in a
different state. He will be 8 hours
away. More if the Grapevine closes due
to fire or snow. He won’t come home on weekends to do his
laundry. The next time we see him will
be Thanksgiving.
Our family
has done the goodbye thing. The move to
college thing. The changing of the
family dynamic thing. We have morphed
from a house of 6 to 5 and then 6 again on weekends and school breaks. We are not new to the changing numbers and
rearranging rooms in the house.
This change feels
different. Half of my children will no longer
be living with me. My boys will go
months without seeing each other.
Months. This seems inconceivable
to me: like Vizzini inconceivable. Julia no longer has a big brother around. Edwin no longer has a tormentor/mentor
around. I no longer have another driver
around. My family will be
scattered. My family will not be together
under the same roof. The rightness of
this milestone feels so very, very wrong.
We will
rearrange rooms again – Edwin to truly get his own room for the first time in
his life. No older brother to share with
on weekends/vacations. When they are
home again, even if only briefly together, the big boys will share the room
they once shared when we first moved into this house 17 years ago. (And of course, Aidan wants to turn it into a
“man cave”.)
Funny thing
these full circles. I will look at that
back room and see my 2 red headed boys.
The ones who people literally crossed the street to look and smile at
when they were little. I will see their
sleeping faces and their rambunctious awake ones. Those are the faces I will see when I take
them to college. Those are the faces I
see when I say goodbye.
