Prodigal Son

Last night at 8pm, my youngest son showed up at my back door. Homeless. Shoeless. In need of a shower.

dirty feet

So he got cleaned up and I fixed him something to eat and then we went to buy him some shoes.

Apparently, the modern day equivalent of a fatted calf is $250 of clothes at Target.

He is staying here for a couple weeks, until he and his mates get their apartment.

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9 responses to “Prodigal Son

  1. You are never free of being a parent. The price we pay for those sweet babies we wanted. Besides, it feels good to do what is right and it is right to do what we can to keep our children afloat in this ocean of life. Hugs to all of us Moms and our children.

  2. For some reason, a dozen platitudes rushed into my head when I read this post. I can’t resist sending you the best of them.
    “Home is where when you go there they have to take you in.” Robert Frost.
    Brits during WW II, “Keep calm & carry on.” (Good advice for all parents) –
    My favorite:
    “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.” Karen Blixen.

    And from the Quakers “Mind the Light.”
    Peace,
    Lou

    • I like the salt water cure.
      The platitude that I am saying to myself is: There was pain in our first separation (birth) and likely to be pain in this one as well. We love each other, we are separate beings. It is enough.

  3. Hope you and he are well (body and soul).

  4. Thinking of you and your son, Fawn. I hope the next few weeks are full of beauty and appreciation.

  5. He made it home, he was welcome, he’s looking to the future – all is well.
    Enjoy!

  6. I am glad that your son is home. He is trying to be grown up too fast.

  7. Your son needs his home, the warm place where he is always welcome. Outside life is cold. No place like home no arms like mum,s. Enjoy the time spent together.

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