Since He Was a Child

Ever since he was a child, I had the sense, the good sense. that I didn't need to intrude much. He went his own way, and I was needed only for a bit of advice here, some information there, some questions of concern, some good conversation. Often times it was as if I was talking to myself, only thirty years younger and smarter. This morning I got up early, just in case he needed to be awakened for his first cross-country trip. He didn't. His alarm went off, precisely at four, and he was up and packing. I hovered on the sidelines, asking questions, but he had already answered them. He did humor me by accepting my offer of a jacket cause, "They are much more formal there than we are here, and it is much colder there, than it is here, this time of year." But that was the best advice that I could offer because he had thought of everything else. His ride arrived and we said our good-byes, and he drove off into the morning darkness, into his life, and I was so proud of the arrow that I had launched and so sad to be the bow that's left behind.