School has been out less than a week. Once that count down began...it was on. Yesterday, in passing, (and I do not use that term lightly) I told him I was off this Tuesday. "Off!!!!" , he exclaimed. As he could already see visions of someone rearranging his plans. "WHY??!", he exclaimed again. I told him, not to worry, I had already planned to spend that day to myself. No need to panic. He nor his services/company would be required.
While he mows lawns for a living, I have to make an appointment to have my own lawn tended. It's hard to remember when the last time was he took out the trash. He never seems to be here when it's full. His room smells almost fresh again. He's never in it. I walk by, and it's just a dark, lifeless room anymore. A room that used to stay full of boys, Xbox game playing, guitar rifting, and unimaginable smells. He hates the smell of air fresheners. Which I would hide in various places in his room. Only for him to find them, and one by one, close them up. I went in his room yesterday, to place some clean clothes on his bed, and all those fresheners were where I left them and open. Our game of "hide the smell good" seems to be over. He's not here enough to care.
He must not understand how this Mama stuff works. I like the trouble. I like the constant company and noise. Because I know, in a few years, it may be gone for good. I refuse to think about that right now. Refuse to rush time any faster than it is already speeding out of control on it's own.
My oldest son, who first moved away almost two years ago, calls two or three times a week now. He used to call almost every day. And while there were times, I found, I had nothing to discuss every single day, I miss not having anything to say now. His life is full of school, his friends, his boyfriend, and teaching.
I think I am entering the first phase of the empty nest. It feels like it. It feels like I heard it would be. The last one home. Turns sixteen and begins to drive. I think that's when it begins. It's just started, and the past few days I have felt a lot older than my 47 years of age. I'm homesick for my home the way it used to be. Busy, noisy and unkempt. It's sad to say, but as much as these kids love summer, I dread it. With school comes, classes, homework, regular sleeping hours, and my child, at home.
He spent the night off last night with plans of getting up early and going fishing/swimming this morning. I'm expecting him home within the next few hours. Starving to death and broke down tired. And I'll be glad to see him. He'll shower up, digging into the hamburgers I'll have ready and waiting, and fall asleep with a full stomach on the couch. His seat reclined, head back, and not a sound will come from him for several hours. But he'll be here with me. And that's all that matters.