A graduation speaker* made it a point to explain to those of us sitting very awkwardly in the audience that there was no way of telling whether that day was a monumental one. A critical milestone we’d look back at, pointing and telling someone, “That was the day that…”. It might be. It’s certainly within the realm of reason. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, repeat what so many before him had, that today was one of the most important days in our lives. He did say, unequivocally, that we would know what those actually important days were, and we would almost always know that ony in hindsight. His message to us was to “be present” or “be in the moment”, as the kids say*, and to also be ready to reflect, consider, and remember.
Saturday was one of those significant days for me. So was Sunday. And last Monday.
Man, it’s been a week!
OK, first up, our oldest son went back to college last Monday, after a month’s break in between semesters. This is the second winter break he’s enjoyed thus far during his college career. And he starts this semester truly living his best life*. He’s taking interesting classes, one of which, fulfilling a graduation requirement I wish I had had, involves spending his Spring Break in England, touring English Premier League facilities, catching two (or is it three?) matches. For credit*. This break was its usual combination of holiday chaos, family gathering in upstate New York, sibling tussles, and laundry*. The quiet that settled on the house after his departure for campus was nearly a physical manifestation*, and it occurred to me that this was one of the last few times we’ll enjoy this kind of break as the four of us. Monumental revelation? Perhaps not, but I’ve come to the conclusion that this past winter break might have been one of those times I’ll look back on as one of those times…
And then there was Saturday. Our youngest son, a high school Junior her in The Pep, has been diligent in his driving practice sessions. And, despite getting a later start than certainly he wanted*, he’s been attentive and enthusiastic about this learning experience. He approaches the world through his senses, and learns best by doing and repeating. He took my* correction very well as we went out driving around, and he applied the lessons and coaching immediately. You’ve noted the past tense, have you? Yes. Well. Saturday, he aced his final behind-the-wheel session and is now a legal driver*. Which would be momentous enough, in of itself. But then: Sunday.
Sunday, Sunday, SUNDAY!!! No, there was no tractor-pull in The Pep on Sunday*. But Young Master Sam felt free to just go ahead and drive himself to his afternoon swim practice.
By himself.
45 minutes away
Each way!
By. Himself.
Look, those who know me know I get emotional at the drop of a hat, and not just at those Budweiser Clydesdale tv ads, either. Disney movies. Horse races. The end of Rocky*. And I mean to tell you, Superman ain’t got nuthin’ on the strength of will I exerted watching him back out of the driveway, not shedding even a single tear.
RRRRRrrrrrriiiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhttttttt!
So, look, it’s been an interesting few days to reflect on. And here’s my conclusion: the graduation speaker was right. There’s no way to know now if these events are truly seminal for any of us involved in them. They certainly were felt, and they impacted me specifically in and after the moment. And I’m making the effort to sift through my recent memories of these last few days, to think about those moments, and commit both the images and the feelings to long-term storage so I can continue to ruminate*. And when I’m done with my rumination (and I hope to be done before it turns into hardcore navel gazing!), I plan to leave any minor regrets around these days and journeys out of my long-term memories, and carry instead the small moments that really matter along with me into the future*.
* Please don’t ask me to remember which one. I killed those memory brain cells decades ago.
* No kids say that. Ever. Middle aged white men say that, in futile attempts to be funny and relevant.
* Yes, I am the master of the cliched, the trite, and the overused. It’s a living.
* I’m not sure that youth is wasted on the young, but I’m pretty sure I wasted college!
* Seriously. The poor washing machine!
* Yes, I understand that sound is, in fact, a physical manifestation, as is its absence. And last Monday’s silence had weight!
* Look, it’s no one’s fault. Between several overlapping soccer and swim seasons, and full-time parental gigs, it took us for-ev-er to set up his Learner’s Permit test. Which he aced, natch!
* Gentle, I hope! Though I suspect not so much. Sigh.
* There is an insurance executive enjoying the large boat I’ve now made his down payment on, he’s welcome.
But it’s coming up, don’t you worry!
* Ok, all the Rocky’s, I – IV.
With a nice strong Nespresso “Roma” americano. Because that’s my go-to for rumination time!
Holy crow, does THAT ever sound hyperbolic! My bad!