Sunday, July 28, 2013


My son, Ethan, was driving my car through the far reaches of Centennial Campus taking curves a bit too fast.  Classic rock was blaring from the radio, at that very moment it was "Come Sail Away" by Styx.  I was riding shotgun, my hair was flying and I felt...something.  It came on slowly and built to a crescendo, the likes of which I had not felt for what seemed like years.  I wanted the feeling to last forever, but what was the proper word to describe it?  I turned to look at my son, so steadfast and confident behind the wheel, grinning that smile that lights up my world, and I realized that what I was experiencing was bliss.  Pure, complete bliss.  Bliss so joyful and sublime that I could almost taste it.  Oh, how I missed the presence of it in my life!  To experience it is magic.  I closed my eyes and had to keep myself from weeping with sheer joy.   

I was in Raleigh to see Ethan's new town house, the first real and official home that was entirely his and his alone.  He scouted it out, paid the deposits, and signed on the dotted line, but was in need of furniture to complete the picture.  Enter mom.  After a delightful lunch at Carolina Ale House, we headed to Glenwood Avenue, or as I prefer to call it, Furniture Freeway.  On the recommendation of a friend, we went to a warehouse that covered approximately five acres.  I am exaggerating, of course, but when you are a WOMAN OF A CERTAIN AGE with a hip ailment, space becomes relative.  We were fortunate to find a beautiful bed and dresser, a mattress, and dining room set for an extremely reasonable price.  The fact that they were willing to give a freshly minted college graduate credit when he had yet to receive his first paycheck was an added bonus.  12 months same as cash and no sales tax (the weekend special).  Afterwards we stopped at the apartment of an old friend and scooped up a couch, oversize chair, coffee table and two end tables.  Town house almost complete! 

Can I tell you how proud I am of the boy?  His new home is literally minutes from his office.  It is beautiful, the only fault being that it is probably more space than he needs.  Who cares?  He is happy and I am happy for him.

Memories are made of days like this.  We talked classic rock and George Zimmerman and the tragedy of Cory Monteith.  We were driving to dinner and I said "The only problem with this radio station is that they repeat songs fairly often".  Ethan replied "I don't know what you're talking about.  We heard "Magic Man" earlier and this is "Barracuda".   The boy knows Heart.  If I thought he hung the moon before, now I know it for certain.

Bliss, I say.

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