My eldest son drove away yesterday, his car piled high with clothing-stuffed trash bags and boxes filled with newspaper wrapped Pyrex dishes and mismatched drinking glasses. He is off to a foreign land, South Texas, where his first “real” job awaits. I resisted the urge to chase him down, jump into the passenger seat, and say, “I’ll come with you. You need me,” because I know he doesn’t. HE’S ready. Me? Not so much.
Sondra Hall, one of my oldest and dearest friends and the creator of “Take My Word For It” (a creative writing program for kids) captures my feelings exactly in her poem inspired by “Not For My Son” by Ellen Bass. I want to share it with you.