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Rated: ASR · Essay · Personal · #2282511
How I’m doing, what I’m doing
Staring at the iPad screen hasn’t inspired me before, much as I want it to. This is, quite honestly, raw writing. I can’t submit to I Write without having written, so this is my attempt at something coherent.

I keep looking back on the past two weeks, hoping I can summarize it in a sentence, maybe two. The word chaotic leaps to mind. My son was securing a rental, getting a move in date, communicating with Human Resources at his new job—he started last Monday—and going through years of personal belongings. This last resulted in something of a dust blizzard, and made him sick for most of a week. I caught a cold. Neither of us had been sleeping well. I missed church. Waking for a ten-thirty service at eleven-seventeen will do that to you. I missed my Bible study that week, and the following Sunday my son moved.

The new place is a good choice for a first rental. The property, similar to a townhouse, is a good size for one person without being cramped. I’m glad to see him taking care of these things; it eases my mind to witness him acting as an adult. I heard him say “When my bonus comes in, I’m buying a vacuum.” He sounded annoyed at the amount of detritus we tracked in; I was nice enough not to laugh.

It must be something in the water, because my husband is tossing out a great quantity of stuff. He’s been doing this for some time, but has accelerated the process this week. I wanted to move furniture, and we spent some of tonight moving chairs, bookcases, and a sofa to new locations. My remaining son came home and asked about the new furniture, and I told him it was our old furniture. We’re closing up the sunroom for the winter, and I wanted that couch available. Our cats like it; if I denude it of fur buildup, I might use it myself. Currently, the sofa doubles as a build-a-kitten kit.

I expected to miss my son more, but his departure has released something in me. I feel freer, more prepared to do as I want. The need to be a parent has lessened, and I’m eager to be myself. I viewed his move as liberating him from our home. It turns out, he liberated me.

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