Bittersweet

The day I met the woman I would eventually marry, she was embarassed by the grandstanding of her three young children. The eldest of the girls was already 10 and quite precocious. The second daughter was 8 - cute as a button and very friendly. But on that first day, her 5-year old son was the clown and he melted my heart. The girls have long since left the nest, but our son has remained at home, save for a short stint exercising his "independence".

Tonight will be our last meal together before he, too, leaves home for what might be the last time.

Now 21, and eager to improve his lot in life, our son is heading off to Toronto to further his education in a skilled trade. To say we'll miss his acerbic wit, wry smile, and loving nature is an immense understatement. My wife has already cried many tears, as Jon, her "baby", prepares to make the journey tomorrow afternoon. I confess that I'll miss him terribly - not just because he's so helpful around the house, but because he's really a terrific human being; and I feel like our close relationship will suffer through the distance. As I try to type this entry, I'm more than a little misty-eyed.

Of course, I'm proud of his accomplishments, his desire to do better, and his commitment to the path he's chosen. I wish him the best of luck and success in his new endeavours, and hope he takes with him some fond memories of our years together.