The Times They Are A Changin'
On Friday, the day before I was forced to remember that it was celebrated my 49th birthday, our oldest son left our home to begin to make one of his own. It’s been a bittersweet time. I love that he is happy and well and still only about eight miles away. But I hate that he’s not right across the hall and always ready to share a breakfast burrito or a white pizza or a game of Talisman (latest new addiction—yes, I am a total nerd/geek and yes, I know the game has been out for almost 30 years. It's new to me, ok?) at the drop of a hat. My little boy will be 20 years old in just a couple of months. He’s traveled and seen more of the country than I have. He’s responsible, can back up a big truck and park it like nobody’s business, and is a spiritual giant in my eyes. I saw him at church Sunday (didn’t see him all day Saturday. On my birthday. I know, RIGHT?) and got all welly and hugged his neck until I think I embarrassed him. I am officially one of those mothers now. Tyler m...