Promises from an eight year old.

My son moved out this month and I am learning to adjust. It's funny how quickly time goes by. Before you know it, they are kicking at the gates of the stalls ready to run free and fend for themselves.
    On Saturday I was totally ready for him to be on his own. Thoughts like, "I cant wait until he has to clean up his own mess." or  "When he has to fix his own dinners he will appreciate all my hard work." flooded my mind.
    On Sunday as he packed his stuff I suppressed any thoughts of grief and helped him cram his car full of electronics, blankets and clothes. I graciously donated our micro wave oven, space heater and lots of safety tips and sent him on his way. I felt a sense of accomplishment that I had successfully raised a "man child" to the age of twenty two without too much collateral damage.
    On Monday morning I was a mess! As I sobbed on my husbands shoulder the sense of an era passing got the best of me. Memories of his younger years flooded my mind. I will miss his loud singing in the shower, I will miss his loud, contagious laughter heard throughout the house and, like all sappy mothers, I will miss his messes.
    To my delight he has been back home several times in the two weeks since he moved out. He has been back to borrow a vacuum cleaner, he has been back to get some curtains, he has been back to get some fire wood and yes, he has been back to get some food.
    As I adjust to my nest being a little emptier, I am thankful for our time we had and the beginning of a new era in life for us both. I knew this time was inevitable (there were times I wondered). I know he will be just fine.They all leave and make their way in the world but I can still hear his little eight year old voice promising me he would never leave and I wonder were time went.