Saturday, August 24, 2013

They know how to fly

My son came home from the woods last night to spend our anniversary evening with us but also to borrow our car. It was interesting how the dynamic of the four of us seems so balanced, as if everything is back in place. It was lovely. But then he left again before daylight this morning to drive back up to camp where he will work his final day and then pack up his things and bring them and himself home. But not for long. Tomorrow morning he and a number of his camp friends will fly out bright and early for a week of revelry at the beach in Miami. Apparently this is something the counselors do at the end of camp every year, but he never could join them before because he always had to head back up to college. This year he's in the mix. That's him and one of his closest friends in the world out on the Sound last week, on a day off from work. My son is a lean six-foot-two. His friend J. is a lean six-foot-nine. He makes my son look look so much smaller than he is in real life.

Here's another picture of them from when they travelled to England together a couple years ago. I sort of adore this photo. They look so free, men of the world, owning their place in it. But I remember they drove a car that was so small, J.'s head stuck out of the sun roof. 

Our daughter is in the throes of packing up for her return to college tomorrow. One of her best lifelong friends is transferring to the same school this year. She is already there for orientation and just texted my girl how much she loves it. She and her mom and my girl and I had dinner together Thursday night before she left. She was so nervous, a mountain of clothes piled up on the floor in the middle of her room. She and my daughter were going through and deciding what she should take, while the mamas talked. I am glad these two will have each other. Here's a photo of them from this summer. 

My girl is also busy with various DIY projects to decorate her dorm room. She's over the moon about having a single, although her roommate from last year will be right next door, and another suitemate from last year will be two doors down. She's been painting Mason jars for flowers, pencils and coins, and has determined her color scheme will be soothing pastels. Here are the finished Mason jars.

My husband meanwhile seems to have ducked into his metaphorical cave, which might be how he deals with incremental losses such as our children flying the coop. I feel lonely out here on the plains without him but there's nothing to do but wait for him to emerge. Perhaps the engagement of driving our girl north and helping her get what she needs to set up herself up for the new school year will beckon him back. He's really very funny and charming when he's present. He can really set the mood. 


  1. I had to smile at the last paragraph -- your good-humored sentiments, the underlying tension of a man in a cave, the beautiful (!) painted Mason jars -- there is just something about it all that made me smile. Perhaps it's the pure life of it --

  2. You are the glue in this puzzle and all the pieces fall in just right when the time is right. Good luck to you beautiful and talented daughter and safe travels to your son. Sweet Jo

  3. It must be nice to have a single dorm room. I would have LOVED that when I was in college.

    Glad your son can finally enjoy Miami!

  4. Oh my. Life- it just goes and goes and it never stops changing and the babies grow up and they go away and they come back, never for a second having the slightest realization of the turmoil they cause within us.
    My husband, too, just rolls with all of it. I go into different shades of panic and anxiety and depression and he just looks at me like...well, what did you expect? This is how it is.
    And then things calm down and we come back together- ah- the core- and we settle into the new normal and then dammit- things change again!
    Your children are gorgeous. I'm just glad they're on this earth along with their mama and their papa.
    I wish you some peace. I send you love.

  5. Of course you would have such an eye for the beauty of life, possessing also such a skill for photography. I can feel all the emotions, the pride in your children, the sorrow of letting them go. I wish you peace as well, and also for your boy and girl.

  6. I love that you can wait for your husband to emerge, knowing that he will eventually, because he always does. Marriage does get better as years pass and people figure out patterns, doesn't it?

    Those Mason jars are adorable.