I set the oven to 410 degrees and hit the start button.
Coffee is brewing.
I place the paper cups into the muffin pan.
My wife adds milk and eggs to the muffin mix as I drain the blueberries.
I mix the batter and fold in the blueberries.
As I am scooping the muffin batter into the cups, I am hit with a realization that this is the last blueberry muffins we will make for our oldest son… he moves into his college dorm room on Friday.
OK, I know that this is not really the last batch of muffins my son will eat on a Sunday morning with us. But this is the last Sunday we are together. My son’s life takes a drastic turn on Friday as he starts college. Everything changes. For everyone.
Now, major things won’t change. He will always be my son. I will always be here to read his poetry. He will always have a home to come back to; things like that. The foundation doesn’t change. But I can already start to feel the emptiness in our everyday life with this change.
His laughter at the dinner table. Raising his voice to make a point during a discussion. Playing Madden (I would always be the Vikings and he would be the Broncos). Texting about what to make for lunch. Watching an episode of the West Wing. The difficult aspect of change is the little things…
Next Sunday I will make blueberry muffins… I’m not sure how I will feel about the empty spot left as my son’s next chapter starts…
But I do know that I am proud of the man he has become.