Last night was my 17-year-old nephew's graduation from high school. He's the oldest child on either side of our family and is off to Suffolk Law in the fall. I couldn't be any more fookin proud of him. I wondered how his mother felt about her oldest leaving the nest and going off to college, and after that, a life in politics. That's his plan at least, but after last night at the restaurant, watching him shaking hands and hugging people, I have no doubt that one day he'll be where he wants to be. Maybe even all the way to the White House.
Anyway, he also has a younger brother, 16, who still has a few years more at home, so I thought at least their mother can take some comfort in that. I didnt see him at the ceremony until my husband pointed him out. The reason I didnt see him, even though he was only a few yards from me, is because he was in full Army dress greens. My husband must have seen my open mouth because he said, "Uh, did I forget to tell you something?"
Seeing this young man, whom I held as a baby, approach me with the confidence of a 20-year-old, with a clear intention of a military career, made my heart swell with pride, and at the same time ache with fear. Both boys, brothers only a year and a half apart, would be gone into the world in the next year. One to college, the other likely to war.
And for a moment when I was sure no one was looking, I was overcome with emotion. The tears welled up as if these were MY children. I tried to look busy, rummaging in my purse for some imaginary something, tying to gain my composure.
I'm going to stop here because I intend to write about this for my next column at work, after next week's which is already written. I'm hoping I can capture the feeling and detail better after tossing it around in my mind for a few days.
Later.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Argh. As a MOOS {mother of only sons, 4 to be exact}, I feel the underlying bittersweet emotions and pride in your post intensely. Where does the time go?
I was just talking yesterday to my #2 son, who turns 20 next week, about how strange the passage of times seems to me. How I don't feel any different than I did ten years ago, and yet he has gone from a child to an adult in those years that feel so short. And the next ten years, how quickly will they pass? And will I still feel 30 years old, or will I begin to feel the weight of my own mortality?
I'm feeling somber today, obviously.
Ah, life. It is strange and wonderful, all at once.
Madly
Post a Comment