He's gone.

Off to Missouri, to seek his fortune.

Yes, he's been gone before. We even sent him halfway 'round the world, once.

But always, always before he had a return date.

This time there isn't one. Odds are, we'll see him again, of course. Missouri ain't off the edge of the world.

But we have no idea when. And he may never move back.

The empty nest feels really empty, now. After the farewell dinner and leftover birthday cake, his mother cried and cried.

His blind, masked heeler refused to kiss him goodbye. She knew.

And as every heeler knows, if you don't kiss them goodbye, they cannot leave.

But he left.

As I just now finished letting that same heeler out for her early morning break, I noticed...

The light over the laundry sink, his nightlight for many years, was still on.

And I left it that way.