When I was ending my first year of college, my uncle got me a job at the Jersey shore. I stayed with him and found that I did not love the job. Although I felt bad, I quit and found something more exciting for my age. I became a bartender in a nightclub. How could I resist? I then, making a long story short, moved in with a couple of girlfriends and decided that school was not what I was interested in and stayed on at the club full-time. I moved out of my parent’s house at 18 and never looked back. Soooo, 40 something years later, our son graduated college and moved with his girlfriend to Vermont to attend school and go on with their lives. They came back that first summer and it felt good, like when he was in college, to have him around for the summer. This year, they are staying not far from us in her family home, taking care of it since her parents are in Florida getting her father back on his feet after a liver transplant. I am not certain they planned to be there over the summer, but the cards were laid out that way. After sitting idle, the home needs the tender loving care and repairs they will give it to bring it back to life (at least until they have to leave again). I am thrilled that her parents entrusted this task to them, giving them both new responsibility in life that they can learn from by living it. The sad part is not seeing him every morning on his way to work, catching up while he is in-between days off and visiting friends. I miss it and with no regrets for this life experience, feel selfish saying it. I am glad that he is moving forward with his life and hope and know that when they both graduate next year, they will have life at their fingertips and that all they are striving for will be that much closer. I have to accept that my baby is growing up and that all we did, and all the life tools we handed him, will now be put to work. Bittersweet is the word I am looking for, but in such a happy way.
Menu
