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You can spend 18 years preparing for a moment, and still feel like it sneaked up on you.
We’re off to Virginia to move The Boy into his dorm.
He’s as ready as I can imagine someone his age being.
He’s smart, driven, poised, sociable, funny and so ready to get away from his parents. Just as he should be.
In the matter of 15-year-olds everywhere, he experiences time more intensely than the rest of us. It goes fast, but it’s action-packed. He’s hurtling headlong towards the future and enjoying the ride, just as he should. He’s on track to become a capable and good man, which is all we can ask. We have the unbelievable privilege of being along for this part of the ride.
But this ride will end soon. And while I’ll never stop being proud of him, I’ll miss him something awful.
Keep hurtling, TB. I just need a minute to process the fact that you’re nearly at escape velocity.
On Friday, he breaks out. I’ll never stop being proud of him, but I’ll miss him something awful.
