My son and I had many heated arguments on a variety of topics - small (why wasn’t the garbage taken out?) to large (you crashed the car?!!). Like me, he likes letting off steam and says the first thing that comes to his head. But we never doubted that we loved each other because there was never a time that an argument, however big, prevented us from kissing each other good night.

During a shouting match many months ago he said, “Well, I just can’t wait to get out of here and off to college on my own, maybe then I’ll have some freedom!” That perhaps stung more than I wanted to admit and wanting to show that I didn’t care, I shouted back, “You do that! I’m just waiting to use that room of yours to set up a nice home-office and put up cabinets to keep my crystal collection!” I said it particularly because he makes fun of my hobby.

Now he’s gone and here I am standing in his room, half emptied of his things but still carrying the feel, the smell, the aura of my son. I feel half empty myself, like all mothers do I suppose, when their children are out of the nest. I’m really wishing I hadn’t made that remark about wanting to take over his room, though he obviously may have forgotten it by now. Will he remember to be in touch, to visit or call often?

The phone rings. I walk over and pick it up. It’s Eddie. “Mom,” he asks with thinly-concealed anxiety. “You weren’t serious about moving your crystal collection to my room were you?”

We had a great talk.