All grown up and moving to Texas

The first column I ever wrote in Conway was for Mother’s Day when my firstborn was 1 1/2 years old.

For some reason, I took John by myself to Jonesboro for Mother’s Day weekend to see my parents.

On the way, he got sick. It’s kind of hard to drive and take care of a child who is throwing up repeatedly.

I remember stopping at a gas station in Waldenburg to clean up him and his car seat. As I was washing the car seat in the restroom sink, I looked over, and he was playing in the toilet. I almost got sick then. As I wrangled him back outside and steered him toward the car, I ran into an old friend. Perfect timing.

By the time we got to Jonesboro, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both.

This Mother’s Day, that blondhaired baby is a 6-foot-4 college graduate as of May 5, and we’re moving him to Texas.

He got a paid internship at a hunting and fishing newspaper and online publication. (I misunderstood and called it a magazine in a previous column.)

I thought my husband was joking when he sent me the ad for the position that a student of his had pointed out because she knew John was a creative-writing major with a doctorate in duck hunting.

So, it’s perfect, except for being five or so hours away.

This is the first time in my life he hasn’t lived in the same town with us.

It all happened fast. John asked me to go to lunch the other day, and it was strange, just the two of us there in the booth. No daddy. No girlfriend.

I haven’t eaten with him alone since before his brother was born 18 years ago.

We managed to make good conversation, mostly about moving.

He texted me later: “It was nice seeing you today. We should have done that more often.” Oh, my heart. That little sentence has been echoing in my brain.

Yes, we should have. But, he had work, and school, and a life.

I have a job, and his brother and other responsibilities.

I emailed my brother and told him John got the internship.

His response: “Congrats!! The chances of him moving back to Conway are 3.75 percent, just so you know.”

He was trying to be funny. I didn’t laugh.

Sister-in-law chastised him,

because now that they have a little boy, she understands how hard it would be to let go.

I’m happy for my son. I really am. He’s working at his job in Conway up until time to leave, so I offered to help out.

I’d mentioned cleaning out his truck — which has years of grass and duck-hunting grime in it. I practically begged to do it. Pathetic.

So, my husband and I took it home, scrubbed, vacuumed, threw away soda bottles, old receipts, and organized duck calls, caps and random odds and ends.

This Mother’s Day, he’ll be in the driver’s seat.

I’m proud of him, but I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I’ll do both. Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.