Preparing for the Exodus

My mind and heart have been full with emotions for the past couple of weeks as I wrestle with my oldest son preparing to leave for Japan.  Tomorrow.  For a year.  I've been annoyed with him lately because of his nonchalant approach for this event.  Details.  You don't just up and leave the country for a year without paying attention to the details. 

And if he didn't still live under this roof (sigh), I wouldn't be preoccupied and likely not as annoyed with him.  Because I wouldn't know, would I?  I mean, he's a man.  He's not a child.  This is HIS trip, his adventure, his life.  Let him work through this and suffer the consequences through the trial and error of life lessons.

For instance -- and then I'm leaving it alone -- he BEGINS looking for his passport on Tuesday night.  He leaves FRIDAY.  He's known that he will be going to Japan since, when?  May?  And a couple days before he leaves the country, it dawns on him that he might need his passport.  And does he know where it is?  Hell no.  Does he appear concerned?  Only slightly.  After 30 mins of searching, he says to me, "Oh, well.  It will show up.  See you later.  I'm going out with some friends."

That is all I'm going to say about this.  Oh.  But okay.  He found it Wednesday afternoon.  In the scanner where he'd left it to scan to his PC ... who knows when. 

I've taken the day off so that I can go shopping with him to help him buy a couple of suits, dress shirts, ties, a fresh supply of underwear and toiletries.  He tells me he has to wear a suit every day at his new job teaching.  A suit.  Really?  (DETAILS)  And you tell me this the week before you leave.  He doesn't even OWN a suit.

So I sit here having coffee, tossing these thoughts around in my head.  I slept in a little later and will be going to the gym in a few minutes.  Dire therapy.  Maybe this is God's way of helping me to work through the sadness of him leaving, continents away for a whole year.  If I'm annoyed with him, it's not as easy to be sad, right? 

Does he even have a clue how much I love him?  How much I'll miss him?  How much I'll always and forever worry about THE DETAILS of his life every day of his life. 

He's my son after all.

Time to head out in search of endorphins.

 

At his going-away party.