and I don't like it. The feeling of being on the verge of tears at any moment. You know how I don't cry so it's a terrible feeling.
I'll have half the amount of laundry to do and half the house cleaning to do. That seems little comfort.
I know I'll be ok because I've been through this before. It is survivable, but that doesn't seem to make it any easier.
I'm going to miss hearing Adam ask me to make his coffee because "it doesn't taste as good when I make it." I'm going to miss his jokes, his teasing, his freaking awesome sense of humor. I hate thinking about someone else yelling at my son for 12 weeks. I hate that the most. I hate that he won't call every day or be able to email. I hate that my son has grown up.
Yet - I love that my son has grown up. He's such a wonderful young man filled with hope and dreams that I didn't know if he would have when he was going through high school. He never felt like he was "smart" enough to do anything with his life. I take the blame for that. I didn't realize it at the time, but when I was partying with cancer when he was 8 and 9, he was falling behind in math. He was never able to catch up. But, he now feels like he can not only get through boot camp, but also start college when he gets home. He's a good boy and I know he's going to be an awesome man.
I also feel bad that Jake is gone and that worries me too. Not a day comes and goes without thinking about it. Hating it. Yet I remind myself that things could be worse. I know they could.
So, I try to think of spring and nicer weather. Try to think of things I can do for the next 4 months that Adam is gone, and the next 8 months that Jake is gone. Things to fill my time. Maybe I'll take a road trip in the spring. I'll be ok, I know I will - but I did take the last week of this month off to spend time with Adam before he leaves on March 4th - and to cry if I need to, and if I can.