This morning was bittersweet for me. My son’s wife is having a baby (our first grandchild) in about a month. Since they live a day’s drive away in Cleveland, they stay in my son’s old bedroom whenever they come to visit. Having a baby on the way means the room will no longer work for them as it is now.
So this morning, I packed up some things my son left behind when he moved out. Two shelves worth of his old Lego® masterpieces went into boxes. His collection of wild animal figures from his “maybe I’ll be a park ranger” days went into more boxes. Thankfully, he already took his books and movies and video games when he moved out, so that saved a bit of packing and hefting boxes for me. My husband lugged the two old dressers downstairs to make room for a crib and changing table.
For some reason, taking down the sports pennants he tacked on his walls years ago made me the most nostalgic. My son was a little boy when he put them up. I think the one of Brett Favre is from one of his first seasons with the Packers. Now, instead of my son’s sports pennants on the walls and his old games on the shelves, it’s time to make way for my son’s little boy or girl. Which is why I did leave one box in the room – a box of his old baby blankets I found in a closet. I’ll ship that to my son, so he and his wife can go through it. Many of the baby blankets were handmade by friends when my son was born, and I like the idea of him using them for his baby now, especially the one his grandmother made.
Where do the years go? It seems like just yesterday, I had a cute little blond boy picking me dandelions in the yard. Now, he’s an adult with a home and yard of his own. In a few years, his baby will be picking dandelions. It’s an exciting, joyful time for us. But it also reminds me to cherish every day, because they all pass so quickly.
I write historical fiction, and I invite you to share the journey to published author with me.