The text came just a week and a half after we drove the winding four hours to leave our eldest to his first year of college.
Will you mail my flip-flops?
I was laying the place settings for dinner, still painfully aware of his empty chair, heart tender from all that elbowroom around the table. I finished placing the silverware on the napkins—forks on the left and knives on the right—and then I sat down with my phone. In his chair.
Sure, I typed. I’ll send them out tomorrow.
Thanks, mom, he replied. And then, silence. A silence heavy with all those miles between us, his empty chair at the table, the closed door to his bedroom upstairs.
The chicken was crisping in the oven and I imagined his feet, languishing in leather sneakers as the last hot days of summer lingered.
Why didn’t we pack his flip-flops?
This post is part of my 31 Days of the Almost Empty Nest series. I’m writing in community with the thirty-one dayers. Women all over the world are joining together in the month of October to write every day about something they’re passionate about. Check out some of the other writers here. So much good stuff. To read my first post, with links to all the days, go here. Only a couple days left to leave a comment on this post for a chance to win a cool giveaway!