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But I've still gotta get groceries...

Running out the door bright and early, eager to implement early our New Years resolution to always have groceries in the house, I offhandedly clicked on my mail box ;and found a long, involved letter.

The sheer volume and mass as I eye-balled it made me pause long enough to first check the sender and as I did, I almost simultaneously let my purse slip off my shoulder to the floor and sit down at my desk chair - albeit on the edge.

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Was this a business document forwarded to me in error? ;

What could be so involved that it had to be put down on paper . . . at such length?

It had been intentionally forwarded to me by my oldest son, a big, strong, rugged hulk of a guy, who despite all sorts of commas after his name indicating a highly-respectable number of advanced educational degrees, ;I will surely bet that, in his heart of hearts, he still considers himself ;to be first and foremost a "protector." A first responder, EMT-Paramedic and as importantly, a Firefighter.

The genesis of the firefighting was no mystery. ;He'd wanted to "fight fires and save people" since he was four years old and sent away for his genuine, official Smokey Bear club card. ;He had taken to heart Smokey's solemn words that "Only he could prevent forest fires."

The content was, in essence, a letter of resignation of his current job - long, but not verbose; explanatory, but far from apologetic; ;confident and honest enough to actually admit that part of him was "terrified." ;

Strangely, my thoughts went to, of all people, Barbara Bush; not someone I've ever spent much time thinking about. ;For some reason (maybe because there was a retrospective of her son's last eight years droning on in the background), I wondered, when was the last time ;that she had occasion to feel the honor, warmth, and pride like I've just experienced. ;When was the last time she had heard the man who may be President, but who at the end of the day, is in essence, her son ... when did she last hear or read from him something, not ghostwritten, that engendered that strong feeling that I had today.
I reread the letter and thought, "How cool is that? ;That's my kid. He's all grown up - ;brave, articulate, and authentic." ;

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Posted in Renovations Post Date 12/11/2016


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