My Very Own Traveling Star

I took a break from the farm routine today and went into town, to run some errands and catch a whistle-stop at the local train station where my son was expected to pass through on a private car.  He arrived, right on time, and we had about five minutes together before he had to re-join his co-workers on the train and keep heading south.  They run a train which takes a gorgeous run, through the vineyards and down the sunny central coast of California.  It's probably one of the most beautiful train journeys in the world.

During the time my son's train was stopped and he had stepped out to visit, I had to fight off the temptation to toss him over my shoulder and throw him into to the back seat of my car, driving home quickly, before anyone noticed what I'd done. Once there, we would have had some hot chocolate and watched Thomas The Train videos until his bedtime at 7:30 pm., at which point I would have tucked him in, kissed him goodnight, and looked forward to seeing his sleepy little face in the morning

This, of course, is in complete denial of the nasty fact that my son is now almost 20 years old, is over 6 feet tall, and is therefore too big for me to pick up.  Plus he has a job on the train and goes to college, which is also known as Having A Life, something he is totally supposed to be doing at this age.  I should be proud of him.  I am proud of him.

But in my minds eye, sometimes he still looks like this to me:

Not this:

Let me tell you, the worst part about getting old is not getting old yourself -- it's them getting old.  The kids.  In my mind's eye, he's still my sweet baby boy and I just want to pick him up and carry him around on my shoulders. Or keep him safe at home with me. It's an urge I fight daily, more so when he's around, which might make his being away at college a blessing (for him, anyway).

But I don't let it get me.  I try and respect his new maturity and don't cry when his train pulls away and he looks at me, a little wistful, and waves, leaving me behind.  As I suppose he's done ever since he was first able to walk.

That first step they take is the first step they take towards eventually walking off into the world.  Sigh.