Not Gonna Cry

Boxes are stacked by the front door, full of sheets, towels, shoes, toiletries, camping gear, and who knows what else. Closets and drawers are being culled. Every last moment of summer is being accounted for as Bridger gets ready to leave for college. He's spending most of each day with me, and squeezing in important things like jam sessions with his old band, soaking at the hot springs, and hanging out with his "bros." I'm making his favorite foods. We're watching old movies. Sigh. I can hardly believe our youngest child is ready to leave home.

And yet. He has been preparing for this his whole life. It's time to release my hold on him, and let him go. It makes it a little easier for me because he is so excited for this next phase of life. Watch out world; here he comes, and he's ready.

Monday morning Bridger picked me up at the airport, and we enjoyed a yummy breakfast of waffles at IHOP, and then we shopped for apartment basics. We took Sierra to lunch, and for a moment, I just enjoyed the blessing of having two of my kids together at once. 

While Bridge and I were shopping for anti-perspirants, shampoo, hand soap, and laundry detergent, we must have smelled at least half of the inventory of each item at Walmart. Scents are very important to us both. As my patience began to thin, I realized this child is so much like me. We share a love of things that smell good. I just have to accept the fact he has taken fragrance appreciation to the next level, and is even more selective than I am. He just smiled when I told him I'd created a monster. He's a monster who likes things that have yummy scents.

Yesterday he was playing an original piece on the guitar. His acoustic music is so soothing, and I love his compositions. 

Trying to be sneaky, I recorded his private jam session with my cell phone. He noticed, stopped playing, and gave me that look. You know, the look that says, "Seriously? Can't I do anything without it being documented?" My eyes pleaded with his to understand. He went back to playing, and I resumed recording. And my throat tightened in that oh, so familiar way, and I felt tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. I blinked them away, and relaxed into his music. Every single moment feels so bittersweet. 

Photo credit: Chuck Bennorth

I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I keep telling myself this, but what I have to admit is I am desperately trying to hold it together until I have to drive away from him at Dixie State. I can't promise my eyes won't brim with tears until then, but I am determined he won't have to see me ugly cry. 

Not gonna cry. Nope. I'm not gonna cry...