But before we settled on Solomons, we visited our beloved little college. I won't even let myself hope that one of my children chooses SMCM as their first choice school, but I can certainly revel in the memories of my own time there. And revel, I did:
The brick where my name is boldly etched should have been
proof enough:
I belong here.
But the handful of students we see, though friendly, dismiss
us all without a second glance,
thinking we are a cliché, perhaps:
The dozen years of a post-college life together etched on
our slightly worn faces
and somewhat graying hair
and the boys whose bodies are in constant, noisy motion
mask the happiness and nostalgia that washes over us in a gentle
yet constant tide
like the very water of the St. Mary’s River.
The students assume that the
adventure
life
love
has been sucked out of this 30-something couple with their
three children: please come here for the
picture, Leo! Pax, keep your hands to yourself; Aidan, please use kind words;
yes Pax, I’ll take you to the potty again, no Pax, you cannot try to pet the
groundhog, maybe Daddy can give you a piggy back for your tired feet, Leo?...
How do I convince them that this is no cliché, that this
very
Adventure that we’re now on, this
Life that we’ve built, day by day and year by year, this
Love that we’ve invested, fortified, multiplied -
began here, on this gorgeous yet humble brick campus with a
sprawling river bed and gently sloping hills and lush verdant wetland, home to
groundhogs, heron, bullfrogs, and red winged black birds…?
As they pass us by, grinning and light-stepped, thinking that
they are living the best years of their lives here at this beloved college,
we watch them with the full knowledge
that the best is yet to come.
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