*In the car coming home from the orthodontist yesterday, #2 Son asked, “Do you think (#1 Son) has depression?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, he says it’s weird to be here instead of school, it’s like he doesn’t have a home anymore.”
“Ah,” I said. “That’s not depression. That’s growing up.”
(Although it probably doesn’t help that we turned his room into a gym by setting up the elliptical machine there. But his brother’s room really is big enough for two people! And he’ll enjoy that air conditioned attic come summer! Really!)
*My beloved mother-in-law, the grandmother of my children, died of ovarian cancer in 1998 at age 66. She married my father-in-law at 19, so naturally he was used to being married, and I was not surprised when he remarried. His new wife is a delightful gal. We’ll just call her Delightful.
Recently the phone rang; it was Delightful.
“Songbird, have you see the newsletter for the Soup Kitchen? Did you know (#1 Son) is in it? It’s just such a nice article; it’s called ‘From a Young Volunteer,’ and there’s a great picture!”
“Yes, Delightful. I wrote it.”
You see, I promised to write something for the quarterly newsletter, and then I forgot about it. And then it was due. And there was #1 Son, home from college. Ah, me.
*One more. Last Friday night, in the beginnings of the big snowstorm, the boys and I were down at the Soup Kitchen. We formed the dishwashing team. I triaged, #1 Son washed and #2 Son put away the clean things. 7 o’clock rolled around, the time dinner is “over,” although there are always a few folks still eating.
#2 Son asked, “Are we going to leave now?”
#1 Son spoke to him firmly and said, “We’ll leave when our job is done.”
As I said, growing up.