Leaving the Nest...

The mother sat on the end of the small single bed and watched him unpack his belongings. The son carefully hung his shiny new suits in the dark wood wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room. Every so often he caught her eye and smiled. She melted each time.
Through her mind ran visions of his first steps, his first words, the trips to the hospital, the specialists, his primary school play, the dreaded reports from school that always made her so proud. He had always dealt with everything that had been thrown at him, caught it square on and thrived. It would be the same with this, the only difference being that he had made this choice, this decision, requested this move. She'd always said she'd never send him, and here he was, wanting to go. Wanting the best for himself, for her too.
They were close, mothers and sons always are, but there was a toughness to their relationship, a respect, a deeper understanding. The love they shared was unequalled, yet neither spoiled by the other. She never smothered him, but they learned so much together.
As he emptied his case, he looked at his mother as she looked out of the window. He was going to miss her like mad, but he'd be ok. She'd always taught him to stay strong, and he knew how to reach her. He was looking forward to this next adventure but was worried his excitement would upset her.
They held each other close on the red stone steps and both of them knew just how much they loved each other, they could feel it.
As she closed the car door and watched him go back inside a solitary tear fell. She wiped it away and smiled. It was going to be hard, but it's what he wanted, she knew it'd be ok, this too shall pass.