Story by Cheryl Gottlieb Boxer
Today we dropped our son off at the train station to return to college for the spring semester of his freshman year.
I returned home and found the house too quiet. I missed his chatter, his guitar music and video games. Every corner of the house felt barren in his absence.
And then I started finding notes. Everywhere. He left me notes in all the places he knows I’ll find them. “Have a nice bath” on the edge of the bath tub. “You look beautiful” on the mirror of my medicine cabinet. “I love you” inside my coffee maker.
Finding these notes has made me so happy. And I keep finding more. Each note I find I’m afraid is the last, but then I find another. When he called me with a travel update I asked him why he left them, and he told me because he doesn’t want me to forget him.
As if that’s possible.
I assume by now he has found the note I left inside the dinner I packed for him. “Be careful and I love you.”
Because I don’t want him to forget me either.
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