Not Prepared
I’ve had eighteen years to prepare for this. Eighteen years since you arrived, sticky with blood and goo, swaddled in white, moments away from latching onto my breast. Already latched onto my heart.
I know you’ll return in a few weeks, hair unkempt, likely armed with a batch of washing, though I’d prepared you for that along with a hundred other things you’ll have to face in this life.
‘You’re ready,’ I told you. And you were. After eighteen years, you were equipped to fly the nest. I was the one unprepared. The one not ready to let you go.
- Category: General / Misc
- Tags: leaving home, University
4 comments add one below
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Neville Hunt over 4 years ago
Love it, Julie! How you’ve written this enable the reader to fill in those 18 years. Lovely.
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Julie over 4 years ago
Thanks, guys!
Son is doing well and enjoying himself, I'm pleased to say :) And second son is happy because he gets the XBox all to himself! -
Neville Hunt over 4 years ago
That’s good to hear Julie. And is their mum coping well too?
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Julie over 4 years ago
I still miss him, Neville, but I'm no longer bursting into tears every time I pass his favourite yogurts in Sainsbury's!
Drew, second son will doubtless be well annoyed when eldest returns home in December and they have to share our house's insufficient bandwidth. There will be arguments. Back to situation normal!
