This past Friday I found myself in Red Robin with my husband and youngest son celebrating our two oldest sons being away on a camping trip.
Except, we weren't really celebrating
I actually had to keep looking at our youngest, to focus on him, so that I wouldn't burst out into tears
My husband has been processing this, daily I think, for quite some time. And, I never got it. I never understood what he was grieving because, you know, they are still here. They are still with us, in our home and still here.
This weekend I kind of got it.
As happy as I was to see our middle son advance up in scouting and go on his first Boy Scout camping trip with his older brother, it hit me like a sledge hammer that they are, in fact, getting older.
That's some scary shit
I don't know that I could have handled it any better the way my husband has been going about it. This almost daily resurrection of a future where our children will no longer be under our roof. It seems so depressing, in fact.
I was actually kind of celebrating this fact. Because, well, I'm kind of selfish, I guess. Or maybe, because I long for the day when I can just get up and leave, do whatever I want. That time is not now. It will come though.
But, this, this all of a sudden-ness of the realization that one day it will, in fact, be just the two of us was really kind of ... weird.
It's never just been the two of us, ever.