At precisely 7:40AM every weekday morning, well okay sometimes when I sleep in it is closer to 7:45AM, I drive my oldest son 12-year-old Jacob to school.  Sure, he could walk on the days where he does not need to lug his enormous trombone to school, but I have to admit, I also drive him for somewhat selfish reasons.  I like the time alone with him.  The opportunity to chat.  The chance to just be ourselves.  Look in the rearview mirror and see the great kid he is and the promising young man he is becoming.

So the other day, I dropped Jacob off at school.  It was like any other day.  We chatted about the song on the radio.  I searched the landscape for his friend who always walks across the football field to school every morning.  I held the dog, so our pup would not attempt an escape.  We clarified the afternoon’s schedule and said our goodbyes.

Driving home alone in the car with my trusty sidekick beagle, I continued listening to the radio.  Singing along with the music.  Commenting on particulars.  That’s when it hit me, I was chatting with Jacob, even though he was no longer in the car.  Over the past twelve years, he has become such a seamless part of my life, such a joy to behold, such a blessing, that I just accept him as a fact.  Always there.  Always loved.  Forever my son.