 kmccarthy, Mon, June 25th, 2007 Christopher and I had long-sleeved T-shirts that we called our "star shirts." Chris and I had purchased them on a vacation the three of us took when Christopher was not quite 2. Even when he started nursery school when he was 3, the sleeves were kind of long on him and I'd roll them up every time he wore the shirt. I remember being at his school one day, my turn to be the visitor in the classroom. After snack and juice, Christopher got up and threw out his little plastic cup, which the edge of the sleeve of his star shirt was touching. I was amazed - at home, he simply left stuff wherever it was. It awed me to see that there was something this little boy could do for himself. This past weekend, we dropped that now 17-year-old off at a big university in a bustling city for an eight-week academic program that we hope will cinch the belt of his application to fine colleges. He wears a Hawaiian shirt every day of his life now, and the sleeves stay well up on his upper arm. He unpacked his things, set up his computer, and shook hands with his new roommates and their families. When we left him, he was heading into a taco shop to get a bite to eat. "Will he find his way back?" I fretted. "He's got to get a little bit lost to figure things out," Chris told me. And Cormac, just turned 15 and finally having grown taller than his father, put his arm around my shoulder. "He'll be fine, Mom," he said. "It's OK." blog comments powered by Disqus  |
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