This weekend, camp will end for another summer, and my kids have that melancholy aspect that always attends their return to the real world from their summer commune. Their camp friends have become to them like family and now they all scatter to different parts of the world. On the camp website, the photos posted today are mostly of the scenic variety, suggesting things are already winding down.
There was also a photo of my son's best friend. They grew up together and call each other brother, although surely brothers argue more than these twin souls ever have. They go to the same college now. They move in different circles there, but each knows the other is a text, a phone call, a quick run up the hill away.
It is a comfort to me to know these two have each other. Earlier this summer when my son was upset and out of reach, unable or unwilling to hear his parents, I called E. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him," he said. And he did talk his friend back to reason. I knew he would be there for his friend, as I know my son will be there for him. I am so glad he is in our lives. I call him my other son.