Check mate.

I’ve done it.

Snookered myself. Royally screwed us. Stuck a stick right up my own backside. Hoisted by my own petard.

I can go on, but I’m sure you get the gist.

The kid is leaving on Saturday. He’s been with me most of the time since the end of September. Which means I’ll be missing him even more than I would have had he just left right after he moved.

He’s gone to the father’s tonight. Tomorrow he’ll be going to a friend, and a party on Friday evening, so I’ll only see him again on Saturday morning when I have to go and spend money I don’t really have but that I have to do because it’s my child. So, this morning, as he said goodbye to me after opening the gate for me, I realised that this particular scene will likely not be happening again any time soon.

I got my wish. He stayed with me. We spent hours talking about all kinds of things – that’s why I’ve been so scarce around here – we watched random movies. Drank coffee, ate. I moaned about him using too much electricity, and he carried on regardless. We never fought though. Can’t be fighting in the last few days I’m likely to have him with me. When it hit me this morning that the next time I see my child he would have become a stranger. He would have changed. Became something I don’t know, a person dealing with a confluence of influences and experiences I have no knowledge of, I cried. And on opening the scuff tin he packed me, I cried some more. Some sweets, special coffee from Thailand, chicken and a roll with butter. Such a sweet child. Always going the extra mile.

I have to trust that he will be fine far away. He can speak the language, he’s not going alone and he’s very well rounded for the most part. I know this is a good thing for him. There’s no future for a white child in the suck heap anymore. Our children have to go out into the world, and I’m not by any means the only parent that has had to deal with this. Not the first, not the last, not the only one. Does not make it any better though. I wish it did not have to be so. Wish I did not have to say goodbye to him. But I’m going to. Come Saturday night, i will be standing at the airport, waving goodbye to my child as he goes off into the great blue yonder. And so I’ve snookered myself. Wanting him here until he leaves, and now not wanting to let go.

Add to that the usual money worries and the nerves about the exam on Saturday and I’m feeling very fragile these days! But it will get better again – only a matter of time. Work is still going well, traffic is still an absolute dream. And even if the house is a bit full at the moment, I still have it to come home to in the evening. The one constant. The only way that will change is if the money suddenly dries up and I’m hoping that that will not happen just yet. Then again, if it does, I’ll weather that storm as well. It’s just what we do, us humans. We weather the storm and get through it to the other side, wet and bedraggled but mostly alive.

Until I land on planet earth again, I’ll leave you with this piece of music…

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29 comments on “Check mate.

    • I think he will be OK AD – he’s much better with people than I am, and for the most part, quite a bit friendlier šŸ˜‰
      But I worry about him – just hope he’ll make it work, hold his head up high.
      You sure know that feeling!! Wish it were not so though…

    • I know Col. I know. Still a sad thing, mixed with hopefulness and dread to see your child go off into the blue yonder.
      Just another thing parents have to get used to I suppose šŸ™‚

  1. Oh, the heartstrings of a mother’s heart. I know what you’re feeling. I have only one daughter but when she left home, I thought the world would end. I made it. So did she. Now we are living together.
    Nice to hear life is still positive. Wishing you the best Saturday night.

    • I don’t think it’s ever easy for a parent to see the chicks spread their wings, no matter how necessary it is for both parties.
      And as used as I am to being on my own, the kids were always somewhere in the vicinity. Now he’ll be miles away. And he was the one that would go to the trouble of actually visiting. The other one only rocks up when he needs something!!

  2. Sending you big hugs, Ms. g. I don’t know what it feels like since I have no children but one thing tho’ I hate saying goodbye or bon voyage.

    • Once your kids are born Grace, you never really belong to yourself anymore. They always carry a piece of your heart with them – think you know this feeling already!!
      But, they have to spread their wings, and we have to let them.
      Thanks for the hugs!
      xx

  3. I know the feeling a son fleeing the nest. Mine did a few weeks back. He had an interview on a Friday and the next Wednesday he started his new job with accommodation included. I was in shock — really pleased for him that he’d found such a good job (with prospects) after a year at home following Uni, but it was all so sudden him going. He’s coming home this weekend for his birthday, so I guess his moving to somewhere within a two-hour train journey’s distance isn’t as hard for me as for you having a son going to another country.

    • As sad as I am for you Sarah, I’m so happy for him!!
      But it never gets easier, watching them leave the nest.
      Hope the weekend is a splendid visit – you’ll appreciate one another much more šŸ˜‰

      • Thanks, ghia šŸ™‚ I’m going to make him the most splendid iced coffee-flavoured cake this evening.

        My own no-caffeine policy doesn’t extend to coffee cake, so hope to have a slice when it’s time for sharing it out!

  4. such a sad situation… I saw a distraught neighbour on the weekend who’s son had left for Dubai. My heart goes out to you parents facing this!! I cannot fathom what it takes to cut the apron strings – makes me thankful mine are still small…
    HUGE hugs
    xxx

    • This one left the nest ages ago. But he was always in the general vicinity, ie, the same province! now he’ll be going very far away, and it breaks my heart. alas, such is the way of life.
      Eventually they all must leave the place they knew and become what they need to.
      Thanks for the hugs Jack!

  5. It’s Friday night here, meaning it’s Saturday a.m. where you are. What a day you have. Know that I am thinking of you ~ both with your son and your exam. Give your boy a huge squeeze and dance your toes and hips off, J!

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