As you go off to college - As true today, as it was then.

 

Circa 2009.

Yesterday I was at the YMCA, exercising. Ash, Emma (age 8) and Ed (6) were there as well. They were at a birthday party, which was a pool party first, then cake and presents later.

 Twenty-five six-year-olds frolicked in the pool as moms and older siblings (Emma) watched. My grandson Eddie, however, stayed on the sidelines, on the bleachers.

 For some reason I got the bright idea I should go back into the locker room, put on my swim trunks and try to swim with Ed, thinking I could cure his shyness and encourage him to join his fellow toddlers.

 So, I did this. I returned to the locker room, and donned my bathing trunks. I tried to ignore the voice in my head which said, “Don’t be an idiot. It’s a kiddie party, plus spectators, all the 30, 40-year-old moms watching.” I was 70 at the time.

 Finally, I returned to the pool, wearing my too-short, old-man bathing suit, very self conscious,  but forcing one step in front of the other, inching toward the water at the shallow end.  The children, and a dozen young moms watched (gulp) as I lowered myself into the pool.

 Slowly, I waded over to the side, near where Ed sat on the bleachers. He didn’t move, just stared at me.

 I held out my arms. Still no movement. I waited.

 Then suddenly he stood up. He walked toward me and jumped into my outstretched arms.

 I paddled around with him for a few minutes, and soon he joined the others splashing about until the call came for the cake eating to begin. 

Mission accomplished. 

Reflecting today, I know if I had the choice for my last day on earth – publishing the great American novel or having Ed jump into my arms in that pool in Madison, I’d choose the latter.