It Happened Again

It Happened Again

 

It happened again.  Son 1.0 left for college and Wife 2.0 and I stood in the street waiving madly and fighting back another round of tears.  This is third such departure; but, the first that Son 1.0 made alone. 

The first year involved an overnight trip with a stay in a hotel.  We arose at 5:30 and were the first in line to unload at the dormitory at 7:00.  We were through by 8:00 and Son 1.0 was REALLY ready for us to leave so he could start the college experience.  We managed to hang around till 8:30; but, finally had to leave our baby in a strange city.

The second year involved not a dormitory; but, rather, a fraternity house.   While we were frightened of the dorm, we were absolutely terrified when it came to the [insert fraternity name here] house.   The denizens made no effort to hide the tequila bottles and beer cans.  And, yes, that thing on the table in the common room was in truth and fact, a hookah.   The next several minutes were spent listening to a very earnest young person (NOT Son 1.0) explaining that a hookah really isn't the same thing as a bong.  My momma [Mom 1.0] tells me I was born at night; but, as I explained to the earnest young person, it wasn't last night.  Yes, I remember the 60's and the 70's quite well.  You teach them as best you can and can only hope they will behave better than you did at the same age.

In any event, 2.0 and I spent a few hours rehabilitating the frat room following its previous residents, what we believe to be a herd of goats.  The trip was accomplished in a single day but nevertheless involved tears and desperately anguished parents.

Son 1.0 spent the summer with us while working at an internship.  It's amazing how much growing up takes place between one's 18th and 21st birthdays.  2.0 and I suspect this was the last time Son 1.0 will live in our home for an extended period of time.   Next summer is the time between the junior and senior years, the time when an engineering student gets a serious internship in a distant state and the summer that follows will involve a degree and a more or less permanent job.  If Son 1.0 gets his way, that job will likewise be in a distant land.  So, this was probably our last summer with our baby.

So, yes, I did stand in the street and weep.  Unabashedly.  Unashamedly. 

See you next time.  God willing.