I am going to New York City today on a business trip. I will be gone for four and a half days. I love NYC and even though my schedule is very busy, I will find time to visit with friends and have some fun. New York is a great city and to be there in the spring is a wonderful thing. I’m not a very good flyer, which is somewhat challenging. I will need to take something to relax.
It is hard to be stressed when flying. I need to medicate so I’m not anxious, then I'm anxious I will be too loopy should there be a problem. It is a silly mess really, but all I can do is pray. Pray and have a drink. This trip is also stressful as it is the first time I am leaving my son home alone. Now, I know he is 18 and technically an adult, but it is still hard.
He has his own car and will be in school for 3 of the days I am away. He has money in case of an emergency, a stocked fridge, and he is responsible. That said, there is a weekend involved and I have visions of Project X. I wonder if I'll get back on Sunday to find police cars out front, a trashed home, and partially dressed teenagers passed out all over the place.
When you consider that he will be away at university in a few months, in a new city, alone, it is ridiculous I would worry about him being by himself in his own home for a few days. It is all part of the “Empty Nest Syndrome” that is ever present in my life these days. I am having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that my little boy is a man and I need to let go.
When the trip was first arranged my son listened intently as I gave him the rules, nodding his head and assuring me I didn’t need to worry. He is now over me and if I bring it up he lets me know about the debauchery he has planned. He will go on and on about the party he is having and assures me he is going to limit the guest list to 500 so it is manageable.
When I think about my son leaving I often think about my own mom. She went through this four times and I don’t think it got easier with each one of us leaving. The bottom line is that it is hard to let your kids go. Literally. It is the physical act of going that hurts so much. I want him to live his life, chase his dreams, and find his path. I just don’t want him to go away.
Once kids go, what are the chances they’ll come back? He hasn’t even left and I worry about whether or not he will come back. He hasn’t even selected his university yet and I freak out about how far away he'll be. While I’d like to say I’m done writing about it, I’m not. I am working through it, hoping he doesn’t have a party, and keeping the faith.
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