I remember the exact 30 second moment I first fell in love with him. We had never met, and I was nervous.
He was wittle, climbing carefully down the long hill of beige carpeted steps of his Daddy's front hall to meet me at the door.
"Hi," I said, "you must be Seth."
"Yup," he said, eyeing theMcBadforYou bag of bribery healthy breakfast in my hand.
"I brought you orange juice, too," I said, taking in the big brown eyes, the freckle on his cheek and the (unfortunate) bowl haircut.
"OK." he said, as he turned to climb up the stairs again, then hoisted his bottom up into a dining room chair and looked expectantly up at me for his breakfast. My bag of lovelies and I were now an accepted part of his Saturday morning, as normal as Jimmy Neutron and the smell of his Daddy's coffee.
That quiet, sensitive boy has become a six-foot young man, walking gently through all the nonsense the world has already chosen to show him, and finding his way toward a future of his own making.
Seth got mail today. Berklee, his musical Hogwarts, has awarded him a scholarship toward the summer guitar session he is attending next month. His very first scholarship, based completely on his musical submissions.
HWK and I tell him constantly what a great guitarist he is. His friends, too. But this is Berklee. The real deal. And I really did try not to cry, watching his face as he realized what he was reading. What he had done. He was being accepted. Accepted by Berklee, welcomed in.
Just like me and my bag of breakfast.
Before I leave you with a taste of his brilliance, I have to ask:
How is it possible to love so completely, so fiercely?
Here he is:
He was wittle, climbing carefully down the long hill of beige carpeted steps of his Daddy's front hall to meet me at the door.
"Hi," I said, "you must be Seth."
"Yup," he said, eyeing the
"I brought you orange juice, too," I said, taking in the big brown eyes, the freckle on his cheek and the (unfortunate) bowl haircut.
"OK." he said, as he turned to climb up the stairs again, then hoisted his bottom up into a dining room chair and looked expectantly up at me for his breakfast. My bag of lovelies and I were now an accepted part of his Saturday morning, as normal as Jimmy Neutron and the smell of his Daddy's coffee.
That quiet, sensitive boy has become a six-foot young man, walking gently through all the nonsense the world has already chosen to show him, and finding his way toward a future of his own making.
Seth got mail today. Berklee, his musical Hogwarts, has awarded him a scholarship toward the summer guitar session he is attending next month. His very first scholarship, based completely on his musical submissions.
HWK and I tell him constantly what a great guitarist he is. His friends, too. But this is Berklee. The real deal. And I really did try not to cry, watching his face as he realized what he was reading. What he had done. He was being accepted. Accepted by Berklee, welcomed in.
Just like me and my bag of breakfast.
Before I leave you with a taste of his brilliance, I have to ask:
How is it possible to love so completely, so fiercely?
Here he is:
