I miss this boy of mine who is now a man. I go into his room sometimes and just stand there, thinking that maybe I will put his clothes piled up on the far side of his bed into a suitcase till he returns at the end of summer. The clothes are folded for the most part and sit on top of a trunk, also full of who knows what. I appreciate that he tucked them out of the way on the far end of the room. Usually I stand there for a while and look at them, evidence that he has been here and will be coming back soon. And then I turn and walk back out of the room.