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Personal blog of christian
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It’s A Jungle In Here, But Not For LongI don’t know if I got specific here on fallible about the terms of our arrangement with the returning-from-Switzerland Kevin, when he moved back home on June 11. Basically, we told the lad that two months seemed like a reasonable amount of time for him to meet-up with all his long-lost friends, find a job, find a place to live, and hit the road. It’s funny how these in-and-out transactions with adult children become less romantic as time goes on. If I did a thorough search through fallible’s seven years of archives, I can’t imagine how many times I’ve lovingly referred to my oldest son travelling alone in Asia, or returning from a semester in Europe. And then my only daughter leaving for college in Oklahoma, driving that treacherous piece of highway by herself there and home again…always home again eventually. A year ago right now, Kevin was preparing to leave for ten months overseas and I was beside myself. (Did I admit that here? Well, it’s true…) Of course, right before he left, Carrie moved back in because she found a job in good old KC. And she got engaged. Could she stay with us until she got married in June? It made all the sense in the world. I don’t know if you’ve got that phobia about the electronically controlled revolving doors getting stuck with you inside but, um…I do. Maybe that’s why, in real life, I’ve kept the door spinning. But Kevin, my baby, is ready to fly, and even if I am claustrophobic, I’m pulling the plug on the door. Kev has gotten a great job at the Raphael Hotel, a beautiful place on the Plaza which comes as close to a classic European hotel as anything in Kansas City. His buddy owns a house and rents to two other guys, so—they figured—why not add my son to the mix? He’s got his work cut out for him, sorting his possessions into the keeps, the give-aways, and the throw-aways, and it’s all got to get accomplished in the next three days. He’ll only have a bedroom at the house, and he actually owns several nice pieces of furniture he won’t be able to take with him quite yet. I’ve told him anything he can fit into his emptied, vacuumed walk-in closet, I’ll store for him. For a little while, at least. The rest of it has got to go. I’d be lying if I said I won’t shed a tear when he pulls out of the driveway a few days from now, bound for his own life, one in which—for the first time ever—he won’t be receiving a parental allowance. I’ll miss my baby and I’ll cry, but for once it might just be because I’ve got a pretty special fellow waiting to share this empty nest of mine. It’s time we got started.
Posted by Katy on 08/13/07 at 06:17 AM
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