This past weekend, he moved into the garage apartment and Ken and I got our room back. This is good. Mostly. I'd been getting comfortable with missing him this past year already, due to classes, work, and friends keeping him away, but this is different. Little things over the past few days have unnerved me, like I don't know if he did his saline rinse because the bottle isn't drying on the bathroom counter because he has his own bathroom counter now. Like in my morning routine, I can't grab his nebulizers to dismantle and boil because it isn't his room anymore and the nebulizers aren't there and how do I know if he took care of them himself and if they're growing creepy germs? See? Unnerving. Of course, I do have a key and can go check if I want (!).
|Rees roofing his place (and our garage).|
|Doesn't he still look like this?|
I'm so glad we gave him that space. It was truly a pleasure for us to pull out that futon and give him the gift of his own room for those important years. Having it back to ourselves is wonderful, but not in a frantic, Oh thank God that's over, way. The timing is perfect; the gift has come full circle; the home is at peace. Not all parenting has such obviously perfect outcomes, but this one has, for all the years involved.
(Now I'm going over there to take apart that nebulizer to dry out...)
Happy weekend, friends,