Tuesday, August 14th
Me: Will you be home this weekend or are you going to your dad's?
Him: Umm, yes, I'll be home.
Me: Okay, then I'll cook this weekend.
Wednesday, August 15th
Me: Hey, we'll go up to IKEA Saturday and get you a new desk chair.
Him: Umm, I might be moving Saturday.
Him: Yeah, Friday or Saturday.
Me: But... *sputter*...but....
Him: I told you the move in date was the 17th.
Me: Yeah, but you told me yesterday that you were going to be home this weekend. Are you just moving your stuff in and then coming back home until Monday?
Him: No. I'm sorry.
Me: Can we help you move?
Him: I don't need any help. Patricia is going with me and we're using her car.
Him: Mother. Mother, it's okay. I'm not going to forget about you. I'm going to come back and visit and we can meet for lunch some days.
I love you, Mom.
Me: But, this is it... your time here is over... you won't be coming back to live here ever again... you should let us come... we should be there to see you off... this is a big thing...
Him: Mother, it's not like I'm getting on a ship to sail away on a ten year expedition to the Arctic. I'm only going to be an hour away. It's like I'm going fishing for the day. That's all.
And then he held me close to his chest and comfort patted me while I sobbed,
just like I used to do for him when his little boy heart was hurting.