Former columnist for the Los Angeles Post Examiner, the Baltimore Post Examiner, and Gatehouse News Service

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

College Break

My son Matt is home for college break. (That's him, looking at his laptop.) It's so good to have him home - I love walking by his bedroom door (let's face it, it's usually noon or so) and knowing he is behind it, sleeping.

When the kids were younger, school breaks were fun, but tough - by Wednesday I'd be pulling my hair out from too much fast-food, too many museum attempts, and too much sheer time alone with three active sons.  Now, Matt is a man - he comes and goes as he pleases, he can meet me for lunch or drive in to the city to see friends.

Ahhh, time...you can't get around the passage of time.  I panic when I realize that I can't remember exactly what Matt looked like at age seven or eight, and then, triggered by some unrelated little thing, I'll be instantly back in my old backyard watching him play army men in the grass, sun shining on his wheat-blond hair.  We were close then, and we are closer now, if possible.  He is one of my best friends, a trusted confidant, and a beloved son.

Middle children live in the exact middle of your heart.

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