We ran out to a few stores to get items that will be helpful for his transition. Of course, he ran out to a hockey game, and the bins are in the guest bedroom, but now he has tremendous weekend goals: pack what you'll need in Syracuse, New York.
The shopping helped me to realize that a tremendous transition is occurring in both our lives - he's ready for the college experience, and I'm now thinking, "Hmmm. This may be harder than I realize."
In my basement is a gigantic blue storage bin that I used for my traverses between Syracuse and Binghamton, and then later, Louisville and Syracuse. It was a bin that I used, too, when moving from Louisville back to Syracuse for doctoral studies and again from Syracuse to Connecticut. I now realize that my personal storage bin tells part of the story of my life. Although it only temporarily has contained my life from point A to point B it has, indeed, been with me for the journey.
Glamis, too, is preparing for the shift in our world. She's been hovering over Chitunga everywhere he goes and becomes possessive of night time rituals when we sit still, process our days, and unwind before we start another tomorrow. I think I will be most interested in how he does without his puppy with him all the time.
And with all of this, all I can think about is Sue and Butch and the number of times I've disappeared, departed, traveled, moved, adventured, transported, transferred, and left to wherever it is I needed to go for my education and career. They are the experts, I believe, on what an emptying nest must feel like (and I have memories of saying, we've left, we're back, we've left again, oh, we're back, and we're leaving again).
I guess Elton John might sing the Circle of Life here. Maybe not. But we do have the storage bins purchased.