by | Jan 9, 2019 | All, Kids!, Stories | 0 comments

That’s what I heard on the phone yesterday from Charlotte Airport. Jack is on his way to Alabama.

“Mom? I think I lost my wallet.”

Now, I am already drained from crying all the way to and from Albany Airport. Coupled with Amelia leaving 30 minutes later for her last college semester. I am really feeling it. I have a ton of work to do and I am finally settled in and writing. I am in the groove when he calls. I jump up, literally, from my chair.

“Jeez Jack, really?” Where did you go in Albany Airport to purchase anything?”

(I should have known)  ”Starbucks.”

“OK,” I said, “I will call there. You go back to the plane you just came in on and tell them you left your wallet. Not you think you did, ‘because they won’t let you on. Then call me back.”

Starbucks in the airport has no direct dial. I jump in the car and drive to Albany Airport. I am thinking some crazy person has his wallet and has purchased $500 in video games, 18 Uber trips, airline tickets to the Virgin Islands and contraband of some sort.  In addition, they are on the way to my house to rob us.

My phone rings.

“Mom? It was not there.”  I can hear a combination of fear (of me) and anxiety of what happens now that I have no wallet?

“Ok Jack. Did you check your backpack?”

Ready for this?

“No, hold on.” And I hear a click. Yes, he hung up. Phone rings.

“Mom? I am just stupid. It is in my backpack in a place I never put it. Mom? Are you crying?”

“Yes Jack.  Yes I am because I am struggling with the fact that I am brokenhearted that you are gone, and at the same time, I want to kill you that you lost your wallet a mere 4 hours that you are out of my sight!”

(Laughter) “Don’t cry Mom. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you too Jack. Truly I do. Call me or text me when you get there.”

It’s so hard when they leave. As parents we have to realize it is hard on them too. They miss us, their friends and the safety and stability of home, even though they may not be able to articulate it.

It’s quiet now. The washer and dryer are silent, the pizza delivery guy is resting comfortably, and my wallet once again has money in it.

Good luck Amelia and Jack. Do good things, be happy and Roll Tide, Go Tigers!

Oh, and call me now and then, ok? Please?

PS Jack never did text me that he made it to campus. Amelia, however, did.

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About Me

KarenHello and welcome.
I am often asked, “What is Pasta on the Floor?”
Pasta on the Floor is different for everyone. It is a recipe that tells a story and inspires them to try something new. For others, stories of family, joy, loss, and hope engage with them. This brings me a great deal of happiness. I do not take myself too seriously, so be forewarned the subject matter is open and truthful. In many ways, Pasta is a tale of life, and I think you will find familiarity and commonality as you scroll through these pages.

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