A laugh and a tear…

This weekend Miss, Tay, and I traveled south for his first college visit. We hit Nashville and Lipscomb University. Tay played soccer for 7 hours while Miss and I walked the campus and watched from a distance. My mind was racing…

We’ve had four children and they’ve all been more than a blessing. They’ve been the best and most painful part of becoming ONE. They’ve taught Miss and me more than any teacher, any book, or any ten conferences. They have taught us to put another ahead, to resist impulse, to delay gratification, to die to self, to love, really love. And they’ve taught us the true meaning of a loan…

Tay, however, is a lesson all himself. A lesson I don’t want to learn. I look at his head and study his scalp. I look at his back and try to memorize every curve. I look at his few facial hairs and find them absolutely beautiful. Tay, you see, is our baby and our hearts are already broken as we know his loan has almost reached maturity. Damn the whole maturity thing. Can’t we keep him just a bit longer. Can’t we hold him a bit longer. Please, doesn’t anybody understand our need to linger a bit longer…

Tay’s time is about up. We’ve got eighteen months to make memories before some Lipscomb, some college, some God forsaken institution of higher learning, will take him from our grasp. This weekend, on the flight back home, we played a little game of scrabble. Miss kicked out butts. I didn’t care. I was just so happy to be together with Miss and with Tay. This weekend I made some memories. This weekend I savored something special. This weekend Miss and I shared some laughs, some memories and some tears. John Mellencamp was right; life is all about the memories between a laugh and a tear…

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