Passage
These boys – the men they’ve grown into when we weren’t looking. In the past weeks, my son and his friends have been home from college. Most of them study overseas and for the past three years, we’ve seen them only at six month intervals.
This was difficult to get used to at first because these kids lived in our house. They’d walk in after school, smelly socks, dirty bags, stubbled faces and slump in the boys’ room, just winding down at first. Then the ribbing would start. The easy target was the younger brother. Once he made his escape (usually into the bathroom), they’d come slouching out. ‘Aunty, what’s there to eat’, in their hoarse, cracking voices, ‘Mom, we’re hungry’. They’d gather around the kitchen table, putting away massive amounts of noodles or biscuits or toast. Back to the room, and soon the raised voices meant the game was on. They’d hunch over their consoles, calling out warnings and abuses in equal measure. When they left, a silence fell like a calm void. But they were always back the next day. And the next.
Until they scattered around the world, nervous grins, slightly defensive shoulders, last minute hugs, Mom, you aren’t going to cry, are you? Farewell dinners, airport goodbyes, all a blur of emotions held tightly under check, last minute reassurances and then. Empty houses, trembling voices over the phone, the sibling moping around a room finally his own. Time passed, everyone took a deep breath, and life moved on.
We looked forward to their return. Each time, there were subtle changes. Leaner, quieter, longer hair. Still, the gaming was intense, they were always hungry, though now they ordered in. They sat with us sometimes, chatting easily, letting us into their world.
Three years later, they are back again, some are done with college, the others looking forward to senior year. The last summer together before they head off in search of jobs and careers and whatever life has to throw at them. Most of them are twenty one years old, a little solemn, a lot endearing. A few are clear headed about their future, most are trying to figure it out. They are each other’s support system and devil’s advocate. F****r, they call each other with love.
These men – the boys they were, tousle headed, scrawny, hyper excitable, givers of bone crushing hugs. Where did they go? Now they are gentle giants, towering over us, hugging me carefully, discussing visas and jobs and other weighty matters.
My son and his friends. Good kids who have grown into wonderful men. Tomorrow they will be gone again, for much longer this time. Our house was their home for a while. I hope they know that they can always come through our door, asking what’s for dinner and offering shy grins as they troop past us into their world.