We got our eldest boy off to college last month, so I guess it's a good thing that I have been working a lot. Otherwise, I am afraid I might have too much time to think about what it means to send my son off, and out of the house.
He might kill me, but here he is on his last day of high school last spring.
Before heading to college, my son painted that trim for us and asked me to mend a bunch of his favorite pants. At first I thought that this was an odd request. Some of these pants were worn, tattered and paint stained, so I hesitated a bit before fixing them. Then I realiszed that he wanted to have some old favorites to wear while heading off into the unfamiliar.
Sometimes I feel the same way.