Just a few more seconds…that’s all I need.

Posted on by Live & Learn

He arrived late Thursday night.

He looked taller. He looked like he had filled out. It had been less than 60 days. An illusion.

We couldn’t make it to Family Weekend in September. I could sense disappointment. His roommates’ parents showed. They graciously invited him to dinner.

It was a short 4-day week at school this weekend. A trip home before Thanksgiving wasn’t in the budget. Many of his new mates on the floor had planned to head home as they lived within a few hours drive. He didn’t want to make the call. He didn’t have to say it. And he didn’t. He wanted (needed) to come home, even if it was a brief weekend stay. And he could catch up with his sister who was home on break.

Dad and Son engaged in their customary near-monosyllabic dialogue.

  • Do you like it there? Yes.
  • Classes and grades? Very good.
  • Girlfriend? No.
  • Food? Good.
  • No drugs, right? No, Dad.
  • You need a haircut. No, Dad. (Yes, he really did. Let it go Dad. Just this once.)
  • Need anything? No. I’m good.
  • What do you miss most about home? My own bed and my shower. And Zeke.

It was after midnight, well past my bed time. I walked up the stairs and crawled into bed. I could hear the soft murmurring of Eric’s and Rachel’s voices downstairs. The chatter swelling my heart as I pulled the covers up. It was good. It was good to have everyone home.

When he arrived home from the airport, he came running through the house with his arms outstretched to give me a hug. Not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable by holding on too long, I loosened my grip. He sensed this, re-gripped and squeezed me tighter and wouldn’t let go. I needed those extra seconds. Hold me Son. Hold me.

Later this afternoon, we’ll be driving him to the airport.  A short quiet ride.

And the house spills out empty again.

Photo Source: Dori Reads

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51 thoughts on “Just a few more seconds…that’s all I need.”

  1. I’m crying …I feel the love between the two of you, your family, Eric and Rachel..how to hold on and let go – I haven’t figured that one out yet..’scuse me while I go get some Kleenex..

  5. David. We were all there once, home from college and wanting to be cool and grown-up but a kid as well. You did great, Dad!

  7. I so admire you and your family’s love and devotion to one another. How you express your feelings regarding them is inspiring. You may not think so, but I would love to see you write a book, on anything.

    BE ENCOURAGED! BE BLESSED!

  17. You never write better than on this topic, David. It’s very powerful.

    I am seeing my son again in November, 12 months after he left us to travel to Australia to see if he could find himself and work out what he wants to do in life. I hope he recognises me!

  22. I took my son to an auto show today…he sat in the driver’s seat of a sports car and I could see him behind the wheel in my mind’s eye, and I know that time is truly speeding by. On the way home, he talked of going to college. And tonight I read your post..and see it all on the other end, with a lump in my throat as I read. Beautiful post David.

  23. Brought tears to my eyes too. The love for a child, even a grown one is a wondrous thing, one that changes as they grow. You never think you will miss them as much as you do when they grow and leave home.

  24. “I love you” not in words but in recognizing the need for comfort and the touchstone of “home”, in ignoring the budget and sharing life’s important moments – it fills the heart and allows us to go forward strengthened.

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