Sail the ocean blue
On Sunday, my elder stepson left home. I hugged him goodbye and he got in a car and drove to the airport where he boarded a plane to Montreal. There he entered basic training for the Canadian Armed Services.
Matt decided about 6 months ago that he wanted to be a firefighter. Grant had set him up with our local fire chief for a ride-along day and he was hooked. Apparently, one of the best fire fighting programs is the Naval program, so he applied. It took a surprisingly long time for him to get accepted; I guess I expected it to be more like the movies. You know, show up at a recruiting office and the next day you are on a bus to basic. Instead, he had to take a gazillion tests, both physical and mental and then wait for weeks to hear if he was accepted or not.
But accepted he was, and about a week and half ago, he was officially inducted into the Service. We are very proud of him, for many reasons, but mainly because this is something he decided on his own and pursued on his own. He has always been a pretty independent kid, but this was an adult decision and although we all had mixed feelings about it, we supported him completely.
Sunday morning I hugged him good-bye. I had tears in my eyes. For the first time, I realized how my parents must have felt the day I drove off for university. He isn't entirely mine. After all, I have only known him for five years. But I have seen him grow from boy to man and when he got in the car, I felt like a mom.
He called on Tuesday night. He sounded so upbeat and energized, it was wonderful to hear his voice. He told me that it was their first "real" day of training.
"Yeah, there was a lot of yelling." I could hear the smile. "And it's only going to get worse, I guess!"
I teased "I guess we should have yelled at you your last week instead of being so nice, eh?"
He laughed.
Although Matt will always have a home with Grant and me, I know in my heart that he will never come "home" again. Home will be a different place for him now.
But then, I look around. He didn't make his bed before leaving and his clothes are strewn in various places around the house. His ghost lingers. And it feels good to be the one to put his things away for the day he will come back.
Matt decided about 6 months ago that he wanted to be a firefighter. Grant had set him up with our local fire chief for a ride-along day and he was hooked. Apparently, one of the best fire fighting programs is the Naval program, so he applied. It took a surprisingly long time for him to get accepted; I guess I expected it to be more like the movies. You know, show up at a recruiting office and the next day you are on a bus to basic. Instead, he had to take a gazillion tests, both physical and mental and then wait for weeks to hear if he was accepted or not.
But accepted he was, and about a week and half ago, he was officially inducted into the Service. We are very proud of him, for many reasons, but mainly because this is something he decided on his own and pursued on his own. He has always been a pretty independent kid, but this was an adult decision and although we all had mixed feelings about it, we supported him completely.
Sunday morning I hugged him good-bye. I had tears in my eyes. For the first time, I realized how my parents must have felt the day I drove off for university. He isn't entirely mine. After all, I have only known him for five years. But I have seen him grow from boy to man and when he got in the car, I felt like a mom.
He called on Tuesday night. He sounded so upbeat and energized, it was wonderful to hear his voice. He told me that it was their first "real" day of training.
"Yeah, there was a lot of yelling." I could hear the smile. "And it's only going to get worse, I guess!"
I teased "I guess we should have yelled at you your last week instead of being so nice, eh?"
He laughed.
Although Matt will always have a home with Grant and me, I know in my heart that he will never come "home" again. Home will be a different place for him now.
But then, I look around. He didn't make his bed before leaving and his clothes are strewn in various places around the house. His ghost lingers. And it feels good to be the one to put his things away for the day he will come back.
posted by allison | 8:27 PM
4 Comments:
I want to make it clear that this entry moved me a lot, but there was also the reaction of, "Dude! He didn't clean his room before he left?" ;)
Ain't it a pisser??
Apparently, at the induction, they showed a video wherein they demonstrated how to change the toilet roll. The parents in the audience busted up.
We take satisfaction in knowing he will learn how to clean up after himself in the Navy. That may be the best thing about it!!
The Navy will teach people to clean up after themselves? I wonder if I can sign people up without their agreement...
Aww, that was a special entry. Here's to good luck for his course, I'm sure he'll do fine!
And reading about the bit of video on changing the loo roll made me crack up. I think my brother needs to see thaqt video ;-)
Callie
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