My two boys (young men of 23 and 18) signed a lease together and moved nearly all of their worldly belongings to an apartment in Indianapolis yesterday. It was a day of celebration and a bright future; Both are employed full time. Both posses their own cars. And both enjoy spending time together. So, this is the perfect arrangement.
Another two trips with the truck and they’ll be completely out, or nearly so. I’m sure we’ll find a random book on a shelf or a single sock in the drier, but by the end of today, the dirtiest of the work should be over.
Life transitions are good. Even when they are hard. Even when they are painful. Even when they are uncertain.
Babies learn to crawl. That’s good.
Toddlers learn to walk. That’s good most of the time.
There’s a first day of school: Good. First lost tooth: Weird but good. First crush, first date, first kiss: All good.
There are school programs and graduation. There’s a first job. A first dented fender. And the first home away from home.
We’ll miss them, sure. We’ll wish they would stop by once and a while, of course. But this transition in life is long overdue and much anticipated. They’re going to love being out on their own. I love that they are out on their own.
Yes, the boys are out.