Friday, April 6, 2012

Forty-eight hours...

He was graduating in the top 10% of his class - an honor graduate once again. After 10 weeks of learning big and important things, he was being sent to Texas to spend the summer learning more important things.

We had 48 hours and lots of coffee.

He looked different... taller, perhaps. He said it was the heel on his dress shoes, but I think his posture had improved. He was happy, living a dream he had had since he was a small boy. He wanted to pray before we left him. We stood in a circle and I was struck with how much he had grown in spirit and how much life was going to change again. I could feel the tears coming, fuzzy on the edges of my eyes. He warned me not to start, because then he would lose it. Just when I decided I couldn't hold back any longer, he poked me, hard, in the ribs with a long finger. I was laughing, still almost crying, and I smacked him right on his shiny, brass buttons. Yeah... that's my little brother. And I knew everything was going to be okay.


Anna Girl said...


Megan Spilker said...

This is happy.

I'm glad you had a joyous family time... and that Jon is taller. I told him he could stand to grow an inch or two. Why stop at being able to reach the top shelf? Go for the ceiling!