Freshman year of college. Thanksgiving break. He seems comfortable and confident. So good to see him.
The first morning, he wakes up early. Eats breakfast and showers before his brothers rise from vacation slumber.
"I'm going for a walk," he says even though it's cold and gray, "by myself."
In eighteen years, he has never voluntarily walked alone. Maybe with our dog without being told. But….
He heads past the barn, down the path into the woods.
"Did someone piss him off?" asks my husband.
When the college boy returns, I am moving porch furniture inside for the winter. He stands close, as he does only when he has something serious to say.
"At college," he starts slowly, "I've acquired a taste for…um…"
My anxiety about launching a child into the world explodes in the seconds of his pause.
Then, quietly as if sharing a secret….
"… coffee."
Breathe in, Mom.
"So, I have a little extra energy."
Breathe out.
"But I really like mocha, and the coffee here is too strong."
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