Ethan just got back from Hawaii.
A vacation with his girlfriend—his first real trip since stepping into adult life.
He said it was good.
That’s it. No stories. No photos. No details unless I asked.
And I get it.
He’s always been more quiet. More independent.
Not the type to spill emotions or narrate his days.
At first, I wanted more.
I wanted to hear what they did, what they ate, what made him laugh.
But I remembered what I was like at that age.
I didn’t tell my parents much either.
Maybe that’s just part of growing up.
Not distance in a bad way. Just space.
A slow stepping away. A quiet reshaping of the relationship.
I don’t need to know everything.
I just need him to know—I’m still here.
