Yesterday morning Nick made one last batch of chocolate chip pancakes.
The rest of the day was filled with last minute errands and shopping and packing.
And then one last evening on the couch together.
I knew I was in trouble when I went to bed in tears and woke up the same. One should not start crying over seeing tomato soup in the fridge or putting away the Fry Daddy. Man, I hate those uncontrollable hot tears where you want to speak and can't. I managed to get most of that out of the way before Nick got up.
And then it was time to pack up the car, so the flurry of activity helped stop the tide of tears.
One Saturn coupe, two big guys, and everything Nick can fit to the roof of the car.
This would include a supply of footballs...
a rather large supply, in fact...
And, just like that, he was ready.
I wasn't, but then, I don't suppose I ever would have been.
It would be after this picture and before the next, with the one last big hug, the choked and whispered words of how much I love him and will miss him, that set off the tide of tears again.
God speed, Nick. May all your dreams come true.
Oh, and so far, I've discovered you left every pillow you own and the year's supply of contact lenses here. ;`)
Oh Tori. I'm sad along with your family today. Although you and I haven't officially met, I know you through your dear husband. I know that you and Bob are tremendous parents who love wholly and completely. And watching your first-born leave is oh-so painful. This brings back my own memories of saying goodbye to my two children (who at 35 and 31 are still referred to as "the kids"!). Suddenly the house was just. too. quiet. Transitions such as these are difficult but as we know, are a part of life. I wish you both well with this one. Time heals. And you just never know what tomorrow will bring!!
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