Last night was just hard parenting night.
The boy was studying for his science test, which to us seemed like he was studying for his MCATs.
The daughter? She was spouting sentences beginning with “Can I have…”faster than Lindsay Lohan’s right hand in a jewelry store.
The wife? She was looking at me with a tear in one eye.
I tried to find my happy place.
And once I’m there, I just know that one day…
I’ll slide into my favorite chair on the back porch, in the sun, placed in just the right spot where I perch my feet perfectly enough to rest my head back just enough to feel the warmth of the morning sun.
The smell of coffee and the amazing sounds of South San Gabriel engulf me.
It’s the year 2022, my youngest left for college a week earlier.
The dining room is filled with family picture books, empty bottles of wine, wet floor-boards from last night’s tears, and the wife is still sleeping upstairs comfortably.
When I open my eyes I see the boy walking towards me with his bike, sporting his grey helmet saying, “come on dad!! Let’s go for a ride!”
His innocence and love to share life with good people immediately warms me.
And when I close them I see my daughter in her pretty fancy red dress running up to me, turning around and saying “zip me up daddy!”
Her raw emotion, passion and love makes me want to just hold her.
I’ll reach down, grab my cell and send them both just simple text knowing damn well they’ll see it hours later when they finally creep out of their college, stank-filled beds. They’ll probably shrug it off, maybe take a second to respond, possibly post it on a future “I wish my parents didn’t have a damn cell phone” blog site.
But the hope is that when they see my text: “I love you. Rock life and make yourself proud. We already are.” – they remember…
The tall goofy bastard who tickled them early in the morning until they peed themselves.
The stories I made-up late at night based on any three things they wanted.
The fact their mother and I were there…for everything…proudly.
And I’ll miss them.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be glad they’ve moved on and badly wishing they took the damn dog with them.
But I’ll miss them.
Everything leading up to that warm sunny morning…is the shaping of lives and the creation of memories.