We moved Blair into her new place this weekend.  Last week was so busy that I didn't even have time to think about the approaching transition.  There was no time for much of anything that didn't involve packing tape and bubble wrap and my brain was so full of little details that there was no room left for sentimental thoughts. 

But, when I came home, tonight, after all the work was over and all the boxes were gone, I went back to her room to straighten up and try to get things back in order around here. I opened the door and turned on her light.  There were a lot of empty nails on her wall that held art she'd taken with her.  The bookshelves were basically empty.  Only a few straggling picture frames and some old magazines still laying around.  Her sorority bid hung on the wall looking all lonely.  Almost like it was something that was once a big part of her life but was left behind to make room for new things. I went to strip her bedding and there was a stuffed animal laying on the floor by the bed.  Its stitched eyes were coming unraveled from all the love it had received through the years.

The room was a pretty pitiful sight.  It had been picked apart and stood there looking as bare as the Who's Christmas down in Whoville.       

Of course, I knew this was all coming but, even my jubilation about the approaching wedding, couldn't keep this mama's heart from feeling the brief sting of the moment.  That moment that I knew I'd have to face at some point.  Not the moment when she'd go to camp.  Not the moment when she'd go to college.  Then, I knew she'd be back and forth and in and out and that her room was still her home base. 

No, the moment I'm talking about is when the boxes were packed and I knew she wasn't coming back to our house to live.  That her time as a resident in our home was over and, when she did come back, it would be with a suitcase to sleep in a "guest" room.  That moment when I knew my job as her mother to raise and teach and launch her was done.  Complete.   

It's something I knew we'd have to face, one day.  Sooner or later.  I knew there'd be that moment.......at the end of some unknown day out there..........when we'd have to come home, turn on her light, and look at the remnants she'd left behind and try to figure out what do with the room that had been her home for so many years. 

And, yeah, maybe for a little while, try to figure out what to do with ourselves, too.



Y'all have a great day!