I believe it is the quietest this house has ever been.
There’s no TV. No stereo.
No computer game sounds. No quiet clicking of computer keys. No friendly chirping of the instant messenger. There’s only one length of cable attached to the modem and router.
His blinds are open. His desk is clean. The desk lamp sits in quiet darkness. The carpet smells like cleaner. The closet door is slightly ajar. Empty.
The cat is not sure.
I cried. I embarrassed him, I know. I guess he’s thankful we parked across the street from his building. I watched him walk away. And I thanked God for my son. And I asked Him to keep him safe. To help him make good choices. To help him make good friends. To help him make good grades. And to help him leave some good footprints. And I cried again.
And I am now.
The Boy has finally moved on campus. As ready as he was to go, I still think it’s going to take a little time.
I’m not staying up waiting for him to come home after a late date. The front porch light is not on tonight. The first driveway parking spot is not empty. But my heart is.
I hope he does well. I hope he does good.