This story is the property of Yi Ching and AI was not used to write it.

Leaving  

She sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he packed an oversized olive drab duffle bag.   He’s so tall now, she thought, He was such a beanpole and now he’s a man.  He really filled out even from last year.  My little boy’s all grown up.  “You sure you have enough underwear so that you don’t need to go to the laundromat every other day?” she asked.  “And how about socks?”

“Jeez Mom,” he said with a touch of exasperation.  “Don’t worry.  I can figure out these things for myself.  Just trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Daniel” his mother Rachel said.  “ I know you’ll do just fine.  Just that—I don’t know— this will be your first time going away for such a long time.  I guess I’m just a worrywart.”

“Well try not to be be.  And it won’t be that long.  I’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas,” he said, “And besides, I’m only three hours away.”

He sounds so sure of himself, she thought.  Oh Daniel, I just pray your confidence is justified.

His father Ralph appeared in the door,”How’s the packing going, Danny?”  He entered the room, swiveling the desk chair around that was at the foot of the bed, before sitting down.  

“Good, Dad, I’ll be done in plenty of time to get to the train station without rushing.” 

“Glad you’re so well organized.  That’s really important in college.  I guess we did a decent job raising you, after all,” he said, smiling.

“You did a great job,” said Daniel,” looking at his mother.  “That’s why you don’t need to worry.”

“I’m glad you feel that way now,” said his mother, thinking of their arguments over cell phones, curfews, school work, use of the car.  “We tried our best to raise you well.” 

Yes we both raised you, Rachel thought, but I made you.  Inside of me.  Growing cell by cell.  Flesh from my flesh.  Bones from my bones.  Taking from me what you needed to grow.  Ounces turned into pounds and you were big at birth.  Eight pounds.  And I had to push so hard to get you out.  And then you were separate from me, crying at being expelled into a cold world.  And now you are leaving again.  Anxious to go.  Your time to try your wings my fledgling.  Fly high!    

She looked at her husband.  Yes, half of Daniel is from you.  From your sperm.  Spark to my egg.  But you didn’t carry him inside of you, growing larger and heavier, feeling slower.  Then feeding him afterwards.  Milk from my breasts made from the food that I ate.  For six months. 

Ralph glanced sideways at Rachel, “Are you all right?  You look very thoughtful.” 

“Just thinking,” she replied.

He nodded, “Yeah.  I know.”

Rachel looked around Daniel’s room.  So many memories.  The small tarnished plastic-bronzed trophy from five-year old tee ball on the upper shelf.  Two plastic model airplanes he’d made on the next one.  Poster of LeBron in his Cleveland Cavalier uniform tacked up on the wall across from his bed after he decided to concentrate on basketball full time.  Bulletin board with his senior year high school schedule still pinned to it along with his two varsity basketball letters.  Team picture.  Photo from senior prom.  The scruffy brown Teddy bear that he used to lug everywhere; kept just for good luck he said.  Geri, his girlfriend’s picture that’d been on his study desk already packed.  But going to a different college.  What happens next?  She liked Geri.

“Are you taking Teddy?” she asked.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to throw him out while I’m gone,” Daniel replied. “You might get into one of your cleaning frenzies.

”I wouldn’t do that,” she said, feeling somewhat indignant that he thought she might toss Teddy.

“I know, I know, just kidding.”

His father got up to look at Daniel’s basketball letters.  “You sure you don’t want a jacket or a sweater to wear your letters?”

“Yeah Dad, nobody wears their letters now.”

“Still got my letterman jacket,” Ralph said.

“Well you can wear it to your next high school reunion,” laughed Daniel.

“Come on dear,” said Rachel, rising from the bed.  “Let’s let Daniel finish packing in peace.” She slipped her arm into Ralph’s.  “Yell if you need anything,” she called as they went out into the hall.

“Feeling a little sad?” Ralph asked as they walked in the hallway towards the kitchen.

“A little.  He grew up so fast.  Where’d the time go?  Our little boy.”

“I feel it too.  Empty nesters already.  No more games to attend or teacher conferences or waiting up for him to come home.  Maybe we should have had two kids.”

“Well its’s too late now,” Rachel replied.  “I’ll start making an early lunch for us to eat together before we drive Daniel to the station.  And a couple of his favorite peanut butter, banana, and jelly sandwiches for him to have on the train.”