Since my son left town on Tuesday afternoon, his pick-up truck packed to the brim with all his worldly possessions, I have been engulfed in that age-old occupation practiced by mothers through time immemorial. Though he technically left for NYC two weeks ago, he had to find a place to live and then determine if it was practical to have a vehicle in his new neighborhood. Fortunately, his new place in Greenpoint, Brooklyn was accommodating so he flew "home," freed his things from three storage places and hit the highway with a friend. The bed of his pick-up looked slightly more streamlined than this...
but there were valuable things, like golf clubs, tied under that blue tarp and he would need secure parking at every hotel. The first two nights - in St. Louis and Pittsburg PA - were challenging but uneventful and now he has a little more than 10 hours to get back to Brooklyn and load all that stuff into this 3rd floor apartment (no elevator, of course) before 6-10 inches of snow and ice hit the city. I know this because I have checked not one but three weather sites several times since I got up this morning. I will text the latest weather update to him in a few minutes, even though he and his traveling companion have radar at their fingertips. At least, I didn't insist he call from every gas station, diner and rest area, like I used to do when he took road trips. Baby steps, friends. Baby steps.
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5 comments:
Oh my god, BG! I'd be a complete wreck. I'm a wreck just thinking about it. Last night, we told our son we'd rather pay to fly him up to San Francisco to visit the gal he barely knows and met in a bar in Hollywood, rather than have him drive up there alone. I'm with you in heart and spirit, as always. I'm happy to help you worry, too.
Thanks, SJG. I got a text from him at 3:07 PM. He was in Manhattan, stuck in traffic. Not completely calm, yet. But getting close.
Thanks again for sharing your kids'adventures. We are some of the minority Baby Booms who chose not to have children, so enjoy hearing experiences about our peers/friends who did. Know you have worries for them, so normal, but it takes us back to that exciting time of youth. When you're fearless. Full of excitment and adventure. Packing up your stuff and driving across the country to a new apartment, new job, new experiences. A wonderful time of life.
Indeed, AF. It's a bittersweet thing, too, because it makes me regret not being as adventurous as I might have been. I was fearless, but in smaller ways.
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