For years I passed your bedroom door at night and barely dared to breathe, so afraid you would wake. Tonight I pass your door, as I do every night, and feel a tug at my heart, you are not there.
There is no need for silence, no need to worry I’ve disturbed you. And as I feel the lonely ache of mothering I wonder where you are?
Are you socialising, asleep or restless?
Some nights I smile and salute you, proud you decided to spread your wings and move so far away. Other nights I indulge myself and allow some tears beneath the surface to spill over. I picture you walking in the door, or saying goodnight. I imagine you sitting at the kitchen table laughing and enjoying the banter of a full family.
As I pass your bedroom later tonight I will whisper to your empty room, ‘Goodnight sweetheart’.
For no matter your distance from home, the small boy I remember so fondly, will always be here in my heart.
photo credit: New York National Guard via photopin (license)
My thoughts on a page. 
Oh Tric, you’re so right about it not always being easier when they grow up.
Funny how there’s zillions of baby books but not so many (are there any) about the empty rooms or the early hours when you wonder was that the familiar creak on the stairs.
Recently, I woke and it was the smell of toast (slightly burning) that settled me into peaceful slumber. All was well with my little world again.
How little we knew what we were putting our parents through in those growing-up years and I guess the ‘worrying’ never stops.
Bid him a Goodnight from me tonight!
I look forward to the end of August, when for a short while all will be back under our roof and all will be well with my world again soon.
Yes I suppose we never cared what we put our parents through, and I think that is the way things should be, but it’s like yesterday when he was small.
Sigh.
Thanks Jean.
Oh I know about the small/ baby bit.
No doubt he’s having a ball and that’s how it should be. You wouldn’t be the ‘good’ mother that you are if you didn’t miss him like terribly. Most people probably aren’t honest enough to admit it publicly so good on you. Sleep tight and sweet dreams. J
Lovely. Simple and heartfelt.
Thank you.
A mother of five warned me of this years ago, so it came as no surprise. Isn’t a mother’s heart just a wonder? You said this beautifully, Tric — thank you. I recently was blessed by being reunited with my oldest son after a number of years .. what a blessing that was .. the barrier is lifted .. time melts away. My own mother passed away a year ago today. No more tiptoeing past her door either 🙂 Thank you for your lovely mother-thoughts.
Thank you so much. My condolences on the loss of your mum. How wonderful to be reunited with your son and ‘time melts away’.
it’s never easy –
No, but we had our time, now it’s theirs.
It’s so hard to let our children go. I feel for you and every parent who has had to do this. I haven’t reached that point yet with my son, but if he ever does leave my home, I know that it will be one of the hardest things I’ve done – to let him walk out that door.
It was indeed so very hard to let him go. I’m such a crier but I managed to wait until he left before letting the flood gates open. It’s funny how him being away is now the new norm. I suppose we all adapt, and it’s lovely to know he’s happy.
A fierce evocative piece, tric. Roll on August…
I can’t wait, I know it’s the way things should be though and I’m delighted for him.I had a great time away in my day!
I often wonder what mine are up to, especially the one that has moved so far away. The texts and the phone calls just aren’t enough sometimes.
I know. If we could only just meet them for a quick hug and then let them go again.
Such a wonderful post Tric! I should tell you that I moved out of home about 6 years back to go to college and ever since I’ve been by myself. But I do miss my parents and wish them good nights and good mornings every day because I haven’t grown out of those habits myself. All of us kids who spread our wings to explore this world do wish for those silent comfortable nights under our parents’ wings…I’m sure your son must feel the pang often. You need to know he loves you too 🙂
Thank you.Just as I hope you know you are missed too.
Thanks for the lovely words Tric 🙂
Oh this is so sad and sweet. I’m not a mother but I don’t live with my mother anymore and I miss her so dearly all the time, but I don’t think she misses me as much, because she has four other children still living with her. I don’t know, haha! Oh, I do feel for you, this was so heartrending. I suppose this is what makes all the family gatherings that much more worth it; he will always be your little one, won’t he 🙂 I wish you so many times of family happiness.
I’ve three more children too, but I still miss him. Yes I agree as they all grow up it will indeed make gatherings so special.
It’s always so hard when they leave home and start their own life without you. But, I promise, there is life after the kids leave.
Thanks Michele. I can well imagine that, because even though I miss him, I’ve adapted also. At least he’ll be home come August, for a while at least.
Ah Tric….morherhood. it isn’t easy. But it is so worth it. And surely he feels your love through the miles. And the years.
That’s lovely Colleen, ‘through the years’.
Your post made me think of the day I left home to go to university. My parents felt sad about it at the time, but for me, it was just the first step in a big adventure, and I was too caught up in the moment to feel anything but exhilaration. It’s only now, all these years later, that I feel the pangs of regret. And yet, what else could we have done? Leaving home is just another of those necessary stages in life.
Yes it’s the way it’s meant to be, otherwise we’d never leave and our children would never grow up. It’s lonely though saying goodbye as a parent.
I can imagine. My elder son will be 18 this year, so it probably won’t be long before it happens to me too. 😦