My son left yesterday for recruit training, and boy was it messy!
For starters, he enlisted in the DEP (delayed entry program) in order to give notice at work and get his affairs in order, visit family out west, etc. So, when he was told he was shipping on the 17th, we figured it was due to the MLK holiday. Wrong. On Sunday morning, he realized that he'd actually be leaving on Monday to hit MEPS before shipping out.
I crumbled.
We had planned the weekend around getting his big and bulky items into storage. (His motorcycle, tools, auto equipment, and anything else too heavy or bulky for me to move by myself.) We'd get his room organized and get the rest in on Monday - or so we thought.
I wanted to make sure he was able to rest up before hitting his first week, so I told him to just worry about the priority items and I'd take care of the rest while he's gone. Because I like to torture myself. Folding up his clothes - some from Christmas with the tags still on them - and finding pages torn out of notepads with his hand-written notes for work, gaming, personal agendas... and then the stuff that he specifically and purposely set aside for me - his cap/gown and diploma, photos and mementos...
I think I always knew that my daughter would be the first to leave the nest. She's ambitious and a self-starter - motivated and driven. David is a lot like me in that he spends a lot of time exploring and discovering things to determine where his interest (and talents) will take him. I knew it would take him a little longer to decide which direction he was going to go, but I wasn't really ready for him to go just yet.
My apartment is eerily quiet - which usually means he's about to jump out from behind something to scare the crap out of me - but not this time. If I'm lucky, I'll get a phone call reading off his requisite script that he's arrived. I have my letter-writing supplies at the ready. Every stitch of his laundry has been washed, folded and packed away. I'm still finding his Auto Zone receipts and empty soda cans in random places. So, yeah... the last 24 hours have been spent working, cleaning, crying, "stress-pooping" and eating ice cream.
I'm nervous for him and I couldn't sleep at all last night. But I'm proud. So proud. My sweet little freckle-faced 'bubba'. I miss the hell out of him already.
