I wrote about him in my first “official” blog post back in February of 2008.
Way back when the road seemed it would go on forever just as it ever had. Sure, they’ll grow up, I told myself.
Tomorrow will be the day before the day his mom and I move him into the dorms. Just across town, his bedroom door less than a couple miles from where I help make the ice cream. He will have three roommates he has never met before. They are friends from the same hometown high school. He shrugs it off but admits he is not thrilled with the possibility that he will be the awkward fourth wheel. Or maybe not noticed at all.
No meal plan so he will be pigging on Ramen noodles. Twizzlers. Pancakes when I can sneak over and whip some up for him. And McDonald’s when he can get a ride.
She is my other daughter, an effervescent, hope-filled toothy grin and a welcome addition to our family for these past nearly four years. The one that calls at one in the morning because she is a night person. That took some getting used to. They learned to text together. To hold hands at twilight and just sit and listen. She is My Little Pony to his Lord of the Rings. Twister to his Dungeons & Dragons.
And she is going to school in Michigan. There is a long dotted line between here and there.
He is taking a communications class, some literary criticism, some statistics, a couple other I cannot recall, and a philosophy class for which I pulled some strings to get him registered. The professor is an old friend and he will make my son think. And I know he will be impressed.
I have given him what I can. It is a far cry short, materially. But maybe that stuff will not matter so much. Despite my inclinations, I believe he means it when he says I have given him enough.
At least he looks snazzy . . .
Would you do me a favor? You continue to come here and read my stuff because you care. I know you do. And you’re also smart. You’ve been there, either as a student yourself or as a parent. Perhaps you’ve even had to shove one out of the nest yourself.
I’d like this post to be a place where he can come again and again and receive encouragement. To read, and feel in his heart, the love and respect of others. So would you take a few moments and leave a comment? Some words that have guided you, or that you’ve passed on to others heading off down a new, open road.
Thank you . . .