Well, I was wrong

Boy, was I wrong.

The other day I wrote about how I was doing OK with Colin moving out of the house and starting his own life. When I got home from work yesterday, I assisted Colin in packing up his PC to ship to Georgia. He wanted to go to bed early, since he had to get up at 3 AM for a 5 AM Uber pick up to take him to LAX. As he said goodnight, and goodbye last night, he commented that I'd probably not be awake to see him off, to which I assured him that I would be. 

And that was where the first time I was wrong.

I woke up early, and could even hear Colin as he got dressed and had some breakfast. But then, I fell back to sleep. And then I heard the unmistakable sound of his keys, pushed through the mail slot and hitting the floor. It woke me up. I knew he was leaving. But I found myself trying to decide whether I should get up or not: I figured I had to get dressed, and by the time I did that he'd be gone. And in the brief moments that it took for me to rationalize all that, I could hear the car door close and the Uber ride drive away. 

I laid in bed for several minutes, regretting that I had not taken the effort to at least get up, throw on some clothes, and go out there. Eventually it was time for me to get up, and shortly after I did I texted Colin, telling him how bad I felt for missing his departure.

But then, shortly before I left the house to go to work, I was overcome by a feeling of what I could only call grief. And it was a grief similar to what I had experienced when my mother died. A feeling of loss, profound loss. And I nearly started to cry, and felt like I needed a day to just let it all sink in.

Colin and I were close. Even though he's grown from a teenager to a young adult, and our relationship has not always been stellar, we have been very close. When he was born, I was there. I even was gloved and ready to assist in his delivery (the damn OBGYN showed up just in time, so I didn't get to assist in Colin's delivery). I changed his diapers, often, and found that to be a bonding time. I remembered this morning that I actually was the one who baptized Colin, not our pastor at the time: he let me do the actual baptism of my son. When he was a toddler I spent time with him cuddling on the couch. When he was a tweener and a teen we went on road trips, and frequent trips to the Planes of Fame Museum in Chino, California. Our humor, based on quick jabs at each other, faux arguments and movie quotes were all based on our shared love of Monty Python. We both loved Star Trek: TNG, and compared our favorite episodes often. 

But in the last couple of years he talked about moving out of state. And as Brenda and I have started our new life together, I'm sure that was part of the motivation for him to move on.

But I was not prepared for how much I miss him already. And that was the second time that I was wrong about Colin's moving. 

I do miss him. 

Good luck.....