Letting go can leave one empty

How do you say goodbye? How do you wave away somebody you love, not knowing when you’ll see them again? My oldest son, the man-child of this column for 18 years, is finally leaving home.

It’s not a gentle break either. For him there will be no shared flat down the road, no knowing he’ll be back with his laundry, or to root around in our fridge on the weekends.

Instead, by the time you read this, he’ll be 10 000km away. And if things go to plan, I won’t see him for several months – longer even. He’s off to explore this big old world at the tender age of … 26.

Twenty-six? Well then, it’s about time, you say! He’s more than ready to leave, you say. But I’m not ready. He’s been with me over half of my life, a constant, an anchor – and while I knew this day would come and I’m truly happy for him, I feel desolate knowing he’s going. Knowing he’s gone. God, I’m going to miss him so much …

So I am trying to console myself by listing the things about him I won’t miss.

I won’t miss hiding chocolate. He has a nose for sugar and can root it out just about anywhere.

I’ve even been known to horde it in my shoes. It will be nice to know the chocolate I buy will still be there when I decide to eat it – and I know I will be comfort-eating.

I won’t miss his socks: they are legion, tucked behind cushions, under the couch, and falling in singles from the tumble dryer. We have a bag chock-full of his odd socks.

I won’t miss his legendary snoring. And then … er … I won’t miss someone mocking my incompetency when I’m given custody of the television remote control, although he always knows the cool shows to watch.

I won’t miss his eye-rolling when I sing ABBA songs, although I fear that’s part of the fun.

I won’t miss being told off for playing mindless games on my phone, although he’s right.

I won’t miss wondering if he’s coming home, or if I can lock up at night. Although I won’t know where he is, which is worse!

And now I need a pithy sign-off, some wise nugget gleaned from my sadness. But I’ve got nothing. Only tears, and a plea to the world to look after my boy.