Written in stone. Unchangeable. No going back. Viewing a loved one’s name and date of death carved in the granite tombstone is the ultimate embodiment of the phrase. How real.
Most milestones in life are not nearly as dramatic. Nevertheless, my response startled me when viewing the post on Facebook documenting Blue Boy’s first college campus tour. Being aware that ED was taking Blue Boy to Flagstaff for a campus tour of Northern Arizona University, I was not prepared for my gut reaction to the post.
Wait! How can Blue Boy be ready for campus tours?
He is finishing up the first semester of his junior year, taking his time to consider his options. Still. College?
I recall my disbelief at ED’s high school graduation, lamenting, “But we were just at freshmen orientation!” Time flickered, and I was shedding tears at SD’s commencement. And then, a short 13 years later, I sat number at C-Boy’s. Now those three view high school as their distant past.
Sharing the house means we share the lives: the joys and drama, fun and sorrow. The milestones which celebrate with the boys allow us to relive all the previous events of our own children. Would our memories be kindled if we didn’t observe the boys so closely?
I look forward to many more years of celebrating with the boys and keeping memories alive, even as they seem indifferent to our presence. My deepest hope is to see them as fathers enduring the sulkiness of teenagers. That will be a laugh!
Oh it will be payback! The late nights waiting for them to come home, the giant heartaches over boyfriends/ girlfriends… they’ll now be experiencing that with their kids. Our daughter is remarrying soon and inheriting a whole new batch of stress — new husband, new house, 2 new children (part-time / shared custody). I pray for her — and so glad I’ll be 60 miles away. Our son in Chicago will soon be seeing his handful-of-behavioral-problems son enter his teens… what will that season bring?? Again, glad I’m not too close to that situation. My golden years, I pray, will continue to be golden. 🙂 Love you Mary, and you hit my nostalgic nerve today.