Sentimental Value

Tomorrow is Ben's last night in San Diego. Friday we caravan with a U-Haul and Mikayla's Camry up to Davis so he can start the fall semester. He has been gathering and packing, sorting and stacking his things in the garage. He owns very little, a trait I think he will always have. Ben has never been much into possessions, but what he does own has sentimental value for him.

I have been missing Mikayla a lot this week. A few days ago it hit me that she is gone for a long time. The first couple of weeks seemed like she was just away at camp, or at a friend's but this week it feels like she is far away. Maybe I am anticipating Ben leaving, and the empty nest syndrome is looming. I am feeling emptiness and there is no more nest. I feel a loneliness. Opening a cupboard the other day and seeing dusty boxes of games made me nostalgic. When will we ever need these? (Except Scrabble, of course.) I have been going through the slaughtered forest of paperwork that has spread like fresh sawdust on all flat surfaces in the living room and the bedroom and came across the brochures from the colleges Mikayla and I visited last summer. Nostalgia filled me. I miss those days when I was part of Mikayla's everyday decisions, big and small. I feel marginalized. Old.

This week I have been trying to steal time with Ben. We walked on the beach yesterday evening and watched the sun set between the pier pilings. Its liquid gold warped as it melted into the sea. We hunted for shells for an art project Ben is creating that he is very excited about. I wanted that time on the beach to last longer, knowing that I will not have another walk with just Ben for a very long time. I, too, am not much into possessions, but time spent with Ben or Mikayla has sentimental value for me. I gather the memories, and pack them away in my mind, and sort them into photo albums and files.