Do you really want to read a post about us driving our seventeen year old boy and his loaded Ford truck six hours from the farm in Michigan to his summer work location in Indiana and how it was the quickest trip in the history of a normally visually uninteresting road trip?
Do you really want to read about how it wasn’t easy but it wasn’t quite as tough as I thought it was going to be? Course I made more out of it in my mind than necessary…just in case.
Do you really want to read about how we arrived in Indiana Saturday afternoon, offloaded Jake’s rig and proceeded to load up all that was to go back to the farm and how that afternoon too, just flew by like I was standing still?
Wait. I was standing still. Well, I did get sent into town for additional straps and zip ties so technically I did some sitting and shopping too.
Do you really want to read how, as I stood back and took pictures, for the first time I marveled at my “little” boy as he just did his thing?
Or how it hit home with me that he has from a very young age had a knack of never getting in the way but is always right there in case there was something he could do and when there is he jumps in and does it. And does it pretty darn well.
It was kind of like watching that little toddler from long ago/yesterday but not. The only difference, in this mother’s eyes, is now he has the muscles and can execute.
Do you really want to read about how even the sleeper was utilized for storing things that couldn’t take getting wet out in the open if it rained on our way home? Not to fear though, I still had room to get back there, flop myself down on the bed and have a good cry.
Alright, that last part didn’t happen. Well, not as dramatic as it sounds anyway.
I know. I know. We’ll see the little punk sometime in August and he’s in very good hands. It’s just…ugh. It’s becoming “that time” in a parent’s life and I…don’t…like…it. At all.
Meanwhile, I’ll continue to nurse my aching umbilical cord and try to adjust.