What Will I Be Doing?

Shane has temporarily moved into our basement.

It’s a one-bedroom apartment with full kitchen, living and dining areas, a separate bedroom and bath, and even a washer/dryer – which he is putting to good use after only a couple of days down there. He uses the separate entrance and drives his car to school. He goes out without telling me where or why – although he always mentions “I might be going out” which is kind of him.

Shane is almost 18, and this is a good way for him to see what it’s like living on his own. Next year at this time, he is likely to be hundreds (hopefully not thousands) of miles away in college. I thought it would help him learn what he’ll need next year, what he doesn’t yet know.

But I am the one who is learning.

I am learning that it is lonely here without him. When he comes home, he doesn’t come in and pet the dog, smile at me, tell me about his day. He just goes into his apartment and I hear nothing. Instead of longingly waiting until 2:45 p.m. when he gets home, I find myself longingly waiting … and then realizing that I have nothing to anticipate.

Dylan has been gone for two years, and Shane has been – especially because of the pandemic – texting friends, creating an online presence, getting to know people via his phone. I rarely see him. But he’s been here. Sure, he’s upstairs in a closed room, making no known noise. But once in awhile, he comes downstairs to visit the dog and say hello.

Now he’s not even here.

I wake up and think: Why should I bother getting out of bed?

My first thought – because I love it so much – is that I can work on planning our college road trips. This is not actually an activity, but I can spend days, weeks, even months planning a three-day trip to see a college. My boys – each! – have been forced to look at nearly a hundred colleges because I want to make sure they have all of their available options. And also, I just love to plan trips.

But every morning now, I wonder: what am I going to do next year at this time?

In far fewer than 365 days, Shane will be finished with college applications. He will have chosen where he’s going to be educated, and we’ll all be excited for him, wherever he decides to go.

In 365 days, we will have finished our European vacation (planned during the pandemic). We will have purchased everything we think he needs for college, and tearfully dropped him off at his freshman dorm, wherever it may be.

A year from now, then, there will be no college road trips to plan. There will be no pitter-patter of teenage footsteps clomping through the house. There will be no guitars or pianos playing in any area of the house. In fact, like it is now, it will be dead silent.

And I will be … doing what? What will I be doing? What will be my purpose for getting out of the bed in a year?

It’s impossible to guess what purpose I will ever have beyond being a mom. My parents tell me that’s when it’s time to wait for grandchildren, but I was 40 years old when I had Shane. I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll be alive when – or if – those grandchildren are born.

Of course, I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll be alive in a year.

So … I am going to do what I can today to enjoy it. I will watch Shane driving by on his way to Starbucks or Taco Bell or his friend’s house – wherever he is going – and I will try to memorize his image, his movements, his voice … whenever he’s around.

And I’ll try desperately hard not to think too much about next year.

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