Landslide

cloud in a blue sky

It was move-in day.
A North Carolina morning.
Where a cool breeze dusted your face.
And a cumulus cloud was chiseled into an otherwise unmarked sky.
The Sun was warming.
Yes, another one of those days in which you know.
You know that this wasn’t all by accident.
Too large. Too complex. Just too big.

We are among other parents and their children getting an early start.
Moving day buzz and jitters.
Hauling printers, pillows, college-ruled paper and milk crates. Setting up bunk beds.

He’s tense.
Momma and Momma’s Boy are tangling over where to put stuff.
PC isn’t working.
I tell him to let me try.
I sit in his desk chair. The chair he will be sitting in for the next 9 months.
And work on setting up his printer.
I feel his disorientation.
The Anxiety.
Change.
He’s inherited this from his Dad.   Continue reading “Landslide”

You’ve Still Got A Friend

Thursday.  He was running late for lunch.  My college roommate.  Just like him to be late.  My mind whirring back to college…

Short (very) and stocky build.  Permanently attired in University of Minnesota Gopher sweatpants and an oversized sweat shirt with hoody. Everything hung large.  Everything rumpled.  “Unkempt, having an untidy or disheveled appearance.”  Webster’s should have added his name.  He was the magnetic center – the beating heart – of every college party.  Quarter-bounce champ into Pabst Blue Ribbon at the Alibi.  Ringleader for late night games of Hearts. Out late. (Very)  Up late. (Very)  Blessed with a quick wit and quicker on the ice.  Selected easiest path to graduation: Art. Sculpture. Sociology. Physical Education. And even this was a struggle. Yet, he was never late for hockey practice.  Vote never taken, but most likely to end up next to the curb.

He walked in. Hair salt and peppered grey. Blazer. Blue open collar shirt. Tropical skin tone. (He’s got it together.)

Continue reading “You’ve Still Got A Friend”

Let there be light…

child, bicycle, sad, bike, child riding bike, illustration, black and white

5:45am.

I’m in the car off to work.

It’s dark.

It’s cold.

It’s wet.

I’m scanning my playlist to find a match to my mood.  I’m challenged.  Nothing seems to fit.  Nothing that is, except the weather.

Mind pans back ten years. A sunny day in Miami.  A lazy Sunday afternoon.  She loves car rides.  The sun roof is open.  Andrea Bocelli is crooning on the cd player.  We’re crossing the Rickenbacker Causeway.  The City center is on our left.  Biscayne Bay’s shimmering aquamarine blues are on the right.  A warm tropical breeze is gushing through the windows.  I look over and her eyes are closed and her hair is blowing in the wind.  A portrait of youthful bliss.  An indelible image that can be pulled up at will.  Continue reading “Let there be light…”

Cat’s left the cradle

Eric-before-after-2012

He returned home for Thanksgiving.  My strapping 6′ 3” son walked into the waiting area.   He had grown.  Looking down on his Dad from a higher elevation.  Adorned with knee length gym shorts. (47F outside.)  Sweat shirt with hoody.  And his hair.  Wow.  Only a Mother can love this slovenly look.  And she does.  I let it ride.  For about 24 hours.  Do you think just maybe you could trim it up?  Dad puts up the fences and guardrails.  Empathetic Mom breaks ranks.  Intuitive Son notices his parents on opposing sides.  Mamma’s boy digs in and expects full cover.  With leverage waning, I grab the last lifeboat …when one feeds at the trough, respect the farmer.   Outcome: No haircut.   And, I now have a Son using hair elastics and headbands aka hair accessories.

He returned home for Christmas.  There he was waiting for us at the airport terminal. Same knee length ratty gym shorts.  (39F outside).  Same sorry sweat shirt with hoody.  And his hair. All intact.  Clothes, hair, shoes…looking matted, dingy and need of a hot shower and wire brush.  Mom first.  Then, Dad gave his Son a hug. Zeke, electrified, and in the midst of a full head-to-toe body wiggle, finally settled after Eric kneeled down to hug him. Of course, Zeke needed to be part of the greeting party. Continue reading “Cat’s left the cradle”

Hi Daddy…

Rachel:   Hi Daddy!

Dad:          Hi Honey.  What’s up?

Rachel:   Daddy, I scored an 88 on a brutal Managerial Accounting Test!

Dad:          Wow, that’s amazing Rachel.  Well done!  I’m proud of you.

Rachel:   OK Daddy.  Just wanted to let you know.  Gotta run.

Self:           “Daddy.”

45 second phone conversation with daughter on car ride home from work.  Priceless.


Image Credit: Thank you abirdeyeview

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