Ed and I just completed a much-anticipated cruise to the western Caribbean…Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Belize, Mexico…all were warm and sunny distractions from the frozen reality of Maryland’s winter. I felt anxious about leaving the boys home alone for two weeks in charge of the house and the dog. I checked in with them via either e-mail or text, almost daily. It’s hard to shake the sense that they need me to help them make decisions and get through the day. But they they were perfectly fine, and enjoyed time on their own.
We returned home to find everything was as it was supposed to be. The neighbors reported no wild parties or craziness of any sort. The dog was alive and appeared well fed. The trash bin (and the recycle bin) had been emptied and put back in place. I’d left them $100 to divvy up between pizza and fast food, and they put their heads together to choose one pizza delivery night and two Burger King visits. (That’s stretching the $100, especially the way Evan eats!)
They had use of two cars while we were away. Neither had a ding, dent or scratch.
I’ve always done their laundry when they’re at home, but wonder of wonders, they figured out the difference between permanent press and whites all on their own.
I’m so proud of them, yet I find myself wondering when (if ever) I’ll get past waiting for the proverbial “other shoe” to drop. After the tremendous emotional upheavals of the past 20 years, it may take me a minute. And for today, that’s okay. I think part of the healing will come from sharing our experiences and helping others. I look forward to telling our stories, and hope that parents will find inspiration and hope within.