The one who taught her

Her oldest had her to himself for three years before four siblings arrived. He was the child who taught her how to be a mother, including how to let go.

“it was this oldest one who taught me how to be a mother”

Monday told, Thursday gone

At 19, after a rough start to college, he announced a move to San Francisco on a Monday and left that Thursday. She did not try to talk him out of it.

“My son informed me of his impending move on a Monday. He left that Thursday.”

She had done the same

At the same age she gave her own mother four days' notice before leaving for Phoenix to join her brother. She shipped a camp trunk ahead and flew west.

No tears, just cleanup

She watched the van of four 19-year-olds pull away without crying. Her mind was already on the mess in the basement bedroom and who would clear it.

“I was already thinking about the mess he'd left behind”

Bracing for contraband

With five kids in a small house, she wanted to sweep the room before a younger brother moved in. No drugs, just a locked safe he swore was empty.

“I didn't want any of the other kids to uncover something illicit or illegal”

Outgrown clothes and a Playboy

What he left was books, dead electronics, clothes that no longer fit, and a magazine under old sweaters that made her laugh. By nightfall his brother had the room.

“If he could be unsentimental about what he'd left behind, so could I.”

The Christmas bear

Visiting his first apartment, she saw a stuffed bear on his mattress, the one that sat under their tree since he was a toddler. He had taken it west without telling her.

“even though he now lived 3000 miles away from me, my son really wasn't that far from home”