It is with a heavy heart that I sit at the keyboard today and write this blog. I want to be witty and wry, keeping my blog topic on death, blood ‘n guts, bad guys or writing the perfect murder but I’m having difficulty focusing on witticisms and the macabre when my heart is breaking. You see my oldest son, apple of my eye, the one who makes me laugh, who is a naughty brat, and who loves his mama’s cooking is leaving me. He’s going away. Far, far away. Over 1700 miles away. To a place he’s never seen, to people he’s never meant, to strange and unfamiliar territory. He’s going to college. And while the college part isn’t the mystery; he’s been at a local JC here in California for the last year and half, it’s different now. He’s off to a small private college, a college that wants him to play football, a college that is willing to cough up a scholarship for him to do just that, a college where he’ll get an excellent education.
It’s all happened so fast. He wants to go, I know he needs to go, but my heart strings are wavering. I want to hold him tight and protect him from the world, but as I think that, and smile through the tears, I realize it’s the world that may need protecting from him. He’s a good boy, a smart boy, a charming mischievous boy with an infectious laugh a Hollywood smile, and a big heart. He’s my guy, my dude, the over protective one. He’s one of my greatest accomplishments, and I’m going to miss him so much.
A part of me will go with him, but a part of me will be gone when he leaves. I know I will survive this, and so will he. We’ll both be better and stronger for it. It just hurts.
He’s the first of the four to go away to college. It’s not the same as just moving out and staying in the same town, or even going to the next town. My oldest daughter has been out of the house for years, but I see her every Sunday and we chat during the week. We’re 30 minutes from each other. My second daughter is dug in, she probably won’t leave until she marries, and my youngest son still has high school to get through.
Saturday morning father and son are heading east, the Suburban packed to the hilt with all that my boy will need for life on campus. And when my husband returns Tuesday night he will be empty handed. A part of him now missing. He will have left our son to his own devices, into the care of strangers, in a strange land, but also in God’s hands.
I’ll wonder what he’s doing during the day, if he’s made friends, if he’s doing his homework and hopefully washing his towels and linens at least once a month (We don’t call his room here The Cave for nothing).
I’m sure every time he comes home during school breaks I’ll see more of man each time.
I look forward to those visits even before he’s gone. I hope each time he has to return to school it will be easier, but I don’t know. We are a close knit bunch us Tabke’s and when one of the team is down or out we may lose our balance, our synergy may be off, and we may falter in our step, but we always pull together as one and overcome. Jeff will be gone but not out, and we will miss him but rejoice in his good fortune and wish him the best, and as a family we will be stronger.
On that note, I will say ciao for now. I promise next Friday to write on writing.