My Son

I walked from the car to the small plain looking building that somehow resembled a preschool. My son was holding my hand, I remember it like it was yesterday. We walked up hand in had to the classroom and looked inside and found no one, so we found a teacher and asked where Zachary's class was. This was his first day in preschool and I wanted to make sure that he got to the right place with the right teacher. We were directed up some stairs to a field next to the playground and sure enough there, picking flowers in some kind of classroom project were 12 or so kids and two teachers. I introduced myself and Zach and they quickly brought him into their activity. I slowly moved away as my son became more and more interested in the new activity, the new friends and environment. As I walked across the field and playground, I glanced no less that a dozen times to see if my son needed me, I even waved a few times hoping he would see me and wave back with a big smile. As I started down the stairs, my eyes got really misty which by the bottom of the stairs had turned to tears. I missed him and I had only been away for 5 minutes. My wife says I am not a cryer. Never have been. Just an "in control of my emotions" kind of guy. But by the time I had gotton to the car I couldn't stop. I sat in the car, in the parking lot for 30 minutes just wondering what he was doing and did he miss me as much as I missed him. This is for me the definition of unconditional love. Someone that small and innocent impacting me so deeply. (I am fighting tears even writing this).

Now it is 15 years later and I cannot get over having those same feelings as I am about to send my only son to Northern California to take part in a fire academy. He will be gone for four months. He is a grown man heading off to begin a career following in his father's footsteps. And I can't keep from being misty eyed every time I think about it. He can drive me crazy, angry, mad and almost every other emotion, but I can't stop loving him unconditionally. I am excited for this opportunity for him to experience life, to experience his future. But I still can't stop thinking of the 4 year old boy that held my hand as I walked him to his first day in pre-school.

In 1981 I went away to school in Europe and my mother and father took me to the airport and I can remember telling my mom to not make a scene with all the crying and hugging and stuff. She could not do it. She even told me as I walked away "Look didn't cry, I didn't make a scene" as tears rolled down her cheeks. I now know exactly how she felt. I don't know how I'll be. I can't stop getting teary eyed just writing this blog. But I do know this one thing. I do love my son, completely, whole heartedly and unconditionally.

ps and I'll let you know how I do in my next blog:)