“I miss [Little Bird] already!” I sighed, in the car on the way to church.

“Who?” my husband said.

“Har har,” I responded, knowing full well he knew I was referring to our seven-year-old son.

The day before, my younger son had gotten on a plane with my mother-in-law. He was headed off to our vacation five days early. We were driving up to join him later in the week.

While he’s stayed at my parents’ house overnight – and even several days in a row earlier this summer – he’s never been this far from home for this long. Usually, when my kids are at my parents house, it’s both of them, so that was different too.

For the first evening, it didn’t feel all that different. Quieter, absolutely. I was a bit relieved that I didn’t need to sit with him to get him to calm down at bedtime. But otherwise not too different.

But the next day, there was a palpable absence. His bounciness, his voice, his hugs, his bubbling-over enthusiasm, his smile, his constant desire to play, his laugh, even him fighting with his brother – all missing.

It wasn’t that I was worried about him. I’m quite confident in my in-laws’ ability to look after him, knowing that it will likely have a bit more ice cream than usual. He looked like he was having a grand time already. They were off to the nearby lake that morning and had a boat ride scheduled for the next day where him and his cousin would pretend to be pirates.

And it’s not like anything particularly exciting was happening at home. Mainly me finishing up work, my husband catching up on laundry before our trip, and my older son not doing much of anything by choice. It wasn’t like he was missing anything much.

There was just that space where he would be and wasn’t. It was that expected response but silence. It was three chairs around the dinner table instead of four. It was just strange in a bad way.

As he gets older, this phenomenon will become more and more common – he’ll be out at a school activity or with friends or in a date. I’m sure we’ll feel his absence then too. It will be hard in its own way. And of course, one day he’ll move out of our house.

But for now, I’m not eager to rush that progression. When I see him, I’ll soak in his presence, his love. I’ll just be there with him and that will be enough.