I may have mentioned that my oldest son is living with me, now. This is probably a temporary arrangement, but could last quite a while, and it certainly was not his choice to make the change.

I wasn’t sure how things would go. I have a one-bedroom apartment. There isn’t a lot of extra room. He and I have a history of not exactly getting along, to put it nicely, and I was worried about what close proximity would cause.

It has been a few weeks, and the most amazing thing has happened. We aren’t fighting. We spend just about every minute that I’m not at work together. I’ll admit I’m exhausted, in a way, because over the past several months I had grown a bit accustomed to having quiet or downtime to recharge my batteries. Now, not so much.

He has struggles at school, but they are a little different than before. Now he seems to go through a lot of anxiety first thing each morning. He calls me at work to tell me that he loves me, and something I never thought I would hear my son say:

He misses me.

The other day he called to ask me about favorite colors, and said he was going to make me something. One afternoon he presented me with a bracelet, which I thanked him for profusely. He made me something.

Yesterday he was upset that I didn’t wear the bracelet, and called me from school to say so. I assured him I simply forgot and asked if he would remind me. This morning as we were getting ready to leave he walks over and silently hands me the bracelet, so I tied it on. This is the first morning in over two weeks that he hasn’t called me from school to tell me he misses me.

I am proud to wear it. I miss you too, son.