Double Whammy!

I was hit by a ton of bricks on Monday.  No....No one threw them at me.  In fact, they really aren't bricks at all.  For me, they're those times in life when I take a look at my kids and see milestones coming and going.  When a milestone passes, it is celebrated, processed, and added to the collection of milestones in my brain.  Monday, though, was overwhelming.

My daughter, Karen, is a senior at Temple University, graduating in just two weeks.  She has assumed many roles while there:  she was a member of the Honors College, she was a teacher's assistant, she served as an officer in the Catholic organization on campus, She was a Resident Assistant during her junior and senior years, and she was an Owl Ambassador, giving campus tours to prospective Temple students and their families.  I know there are omissions to this list, but these are the ones that come to mind as I ponder the bricks thrown at me this past Monday.

It was this day that Karen would give her last tour as an Owl Ambassador.  She had been pestering my youngest son, Brian, to visit her at Temple.  Brian is a junior in high school, and a tour of Temple on Easter Monday would be appropriate.  It sounded like a no-brainer. We didn't tour Temple when Karen was looking at colleges, so it would be something new for all of us.

I felt the force of the first brick before the tour began as Karen came up to us and gave us our hellos and hugs with a room full of people present.  We were finally not a source of 'uncool' for her, for at times, she was proud of us.  She was all grown up. 


The second brick hit me in the heart when I heard her confidently introduce herself to the all the candidates and family members.  She used humor and her heart to endear future tour members to her.  Her banter referencing her Walmart having a parking garage for horses and buggies was a hit...and so was she.  She was cool.


The third brick hit a little more gently, and as a father, was the most rewarding to see.  She took all her tour members:  the candidates, their parents, her little brother, and her parents under her wing with a confident smile.  She maneuvered around crowds of students and endured having to speak louder than the passersby.  She never lost her cool or her smile.  She was the commander and the nurturer, and we were suddenly the disciples.


The sight of my youngest two children supporting each other during this critical time in both their lives felt like an approaching brick, too.  Not because it was difficult to see them doing this, but because I was looking at these two big people interacting as mature human beings.  Neither of them is a child anymore.  Rewarding, yet bittersweet.


The final brick hit as we were saying our goodbyes, knowing that the next time I would see her would be her commencement and award ceremonies.  She would be closing one momentous facet of her life, and beginning a new one, having already been accepted in the Teach For America program.  As we gave her the final hugs and ventured back to the highways, I thought about Brian too.  He has begun the process of finding the right fit for his hopes and dreams, and will soon be using all he has learned in his life to survive in the world of college life. 


Most days are not like this one.  We're busy with one errand or another, one of our children or another, one task or another, and all that the normal routine has to offer.  The bricks certainly don't hurt, they just take me by storm for a moment, and I realize the speed at which time has gone by, and that each brick has its place in this house I've built called life, and that I'm one fortunate guy!