I know this is the world’s worst photo, but it was taken – by me – at 11 last night when the boys, one by one, showed up in my bedroom. I have come to think of this as one of the most bittersweet times of the year. You give them roots and you give them wings. Dammit.
Of course, only one of the boys is truly mine. The other two have been in my life for many years. They have eaten at my kitchen counter many times. Now they’re all off at college and the return to school is imminent. So last night, Noah gets home from work and comes in my bedroom to chat. I love that. I am so blessed that he wants to spend time talking with me. Then I hear a car pull up and Noah yells out of the screen door to the bedroom deck, “We’re in here.”
Here comes Buehler. Buehler the insatiable. Buehler, who wanders immediately to the icebox and comes back with some leftover pasta and pesto. He plops down on the bed next to Noah. I am in my pajamas, sitting next to the screen door smoking. I have been reduced to that, but the boys don’t seem to mind. They don’t actually even seem to notice. We talk of many things. Then, another car arrives. Same drill. Here comes Alex. He brings a box of English biscuits covered in chocolate. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? I have also fed Alex many times. Happy to do it. No, thrilled. He is an adventurous eater, as is Buehler. I like those boys.
So we sit, the four of us, in my bedroom and talk. I love their young lives. I love the unique perspective they bring to the world. I love the adventures they have ahead of them. And I hate that in a week or so, they’ll be on to those adventures and not sitting on my bed.
Again, I apologize for the photo. It is unworthy of a blog. I know this. But it was humid with that screen door open and it was, by the time I took it, about 11 at night. And, yes, I had a few glasses of wine. Which is probably why I didn’t mind them sitting there while I was in my pajamas. I didn’t mind at all. Not one bit.