I Should Have Stayed One More Day

I accidentally hurt myself last night.  Doubled over in the hallway, tears streaming down my cheeks, unable to breathe, hurt.  Let me explain.

Kyle got home from 4 months in Germany on Sunday after a long three-days of flight delays and cancellations.  It was so good to see him, to finally have my children safe under one roof for a time.  We had family dinner three nights in a row, played a board game, watched movies, visited my 88-year old aunt...It was every mother's dream.

This semester, he is renting a house with four other guys, and his buddy said he could move in on Wednesday.  Like any other 20-year old, fresh off four months of total independence, he was ready to go.  He began gathering his stuff and asked me if I'd help him move today.  I said of course, with a sinking heart, and tried to make it as painless as possible.  We made a list of things he'd need, gathered up furniture for his room, and started packing.

Later, the five of us were in the family room, no TV on, just hanging out.  The girls were doing their homework, Kirk was planning his week, Kyle was watching something on his phone, and I was just sitting there taking it all in.  I started dozing off and decided to go on to bed.  I kissed the kids goodnight, and when I got to Kyle, he hugged me and said, "I had a good day today, Mom."

I hugged him tighter and replied, "I wish you didn't have to leave already."

He replied,  "I know. I know."

Trying to joke with him, I said, "One day you'll be a dad, and you'll understand.  You'll think, 'I should have stayed one more day.'" And I kissed his bearded cheek again and headed upstairs.

At the bottom of the steps, it smacked me in the face...

I, too, should have stayed one more day.  One more night in my childhood room.  One more dinner at the kitchen table with Mom and Dad.  One more afternoon on the patio.  One more breakfast.  One more cup of coffee.  One more anything.

And I doubled over and sobbed.  Kirk asked, "Are you okay, honey?" and I said, "Yes, I just hurt myself.  I'll be fine."

I stood there with tears streaming down my face, hardly able to control my sobs, and I couldn't go upstairs and leave them all in the family room.  I didn't want this to be over too, so I went in the kitchen and began washing up the few leftover dishes. One more minute, one more second.  I was still crying silently when Kyle came in to get a drink of water.

"You okay, Mom?  What did you hurt?"

I pointed at my heart.  "But it's me, not you.  I'm sad you are leaving already, but that's how it should be.  When I said, 'You'll think, 'I should have stayed one more day,' it made me think of myself and how I wish I would have stayed one more day at Grandma's.  When you are 20, all you want to do is leave, but when you are almost 50, all you want is to go home, and I can't."

Kyle hugged me then, and I pulled myself together.  I tried again to go to bed, but I just couldn't.  I realized I hadn't seen the pictures from his trip, so I went back downstairs and asked him to show me. He did, took his time, explained what they were and what he'd been doing, who the people in the photos were.  He knew I needed that time with him and didn't rush.  It was really nice.

I finally went to bed about 11:30, a jumbled up ball of emotions.  Who knew all of this would be so hard?  Today I will help Kyle move (again), and as it should be, he will start a new chapter in his life.  I'm just happy to be a part of it and really happy he'll only be 20 minutes away this time.