In The Beginning

Shhh! I am at work now, trying to sell luxury cars during a severe economic downturn, days before Christmas. So I might as well start writing when things are s-l-o-w.

Our son is spending the next ten days or so with family four hours south of us. It hit me last night that he won't be home for Hanukkah or Christmas this year. He's only 10, so I am not ready to abandon watching the sublime joy on his face as he opens and uses his holiday gifts. When he's in high school or college and only wants to spend time with his buddies and significant others, I will be prepared. But now he's still a kid.

Anyway, I had no legitimate reason to balk when he called me yesterday (while I was at work) and said somewhat meekly, "Dad, can I go to Uncle Marty's for vacation?"

"What did Mommy say?" I asked.

"She said to ask you."

Oh, thanks, Verna!

Later, when he and Marty stopped in to say goodbye, Marty said, "I didn't think you'd let him go."

What can I say? I've earned my reputation for being a neurotic Jewish mother. But the truth is if the ties are too tight, he will choke or suffocate and the subsequent resentment will fester.

And he will have a great time. He'll play with my niece and nephew: sports, computer games, movies, outings to the beach, more sports, dining, and all the rapid activities a large family can handle.

If he'd stayed here, while I was working most days and weekends, he'd have to compete with the tornado we call Maya, nearly three and as demanding and exciting and frustrating as any toddler. So he told Verna he wanted some peace and quiet, and now he's gone until just after the New Year.

Until then, I've had an involuntary glimpse into the future when he will choose more often than not to do things without us.

It's all about trust. I have to trust others to care for him. I have to trust Miguel to act wisely and graciously. And I have to trust that Verna and I have done pretty well with his foundation so far.