Little Goodbye

Scooter left yesterday for his first extended trip away from home. He's spending a week with his (childless) aunt and uncle in Ohio.

It was my job to ferry him to the airport, while She Who Puts Up With Me stayed home with the twins (I think I got the better deal, since the air conditioning at the airport is far more powerful than the stuff at home). It turns out that in the post-9/11 world, one of the few exceptions to the "passengers only past security" rule is for people dropping off or picking up unaccompanied minors.

So I got to partake of that lost ritual of an earlier age, saying goodbye to a loved one at the gate. When they began preboarding, I handed Scooter off to an airline employee who escorted him onto the plane and to his seat.

I have to admit that my heart skipped a little as I watched him disappear down the jetway, his backpack full of reading material, talking to the matronly gate agent.

We know that if we do our job as parents and all goes well, there will come a time when we have to say goodbye. We can only hope that when that time comes, our children have the wisdom and skills to make their own way in the world, and that they will return at their own time and on their own terms.

Until then, we practice for that day with little goodbyes. Like the first day of school, the first trip alone down the jetway is a little goodbye. Scooter may be only seven, but he was very ready to take this step.

I'm not so sure I can say the same for myself.