The end of an era

Jesse

The day every parent both dreads and anticipates finally arrived, our boy moved out. No, not Noah, our oldest, Jesse. Yes, it's odd that he's lived with us 7 of the 10 years Stan and I have been together but on the other hand, it isn't. He's been my best friend 13 years and Stan's for the last 10. It felt natural because to us, he is family.

Yes, interrupting him having sex with his girlfriend to ask if he wanted to say good-night to Noah was a lot weird, but hey, all families have their quirks. At least he did a lot of housework. Oh wait, that was me.

He did fix a lot of things and install a bunch more. He was always there for us and loaned or gave his things freely (usually with a free dose of sarcastic banter). And he was always the first one to run out in the pouring rain to clear the clogged gutters so our basement stayed (mostly) dry.

It was time, and we are all glad of the change. Jesse's apartment is the cooliest and I am looking forward to attending parties and hanging at his new place.

Congratulations boy. I knew you'd learn how to fly one day. Make us proud!