The face of 18

My son turned 18 on Monday. A milestone according to many societal measures. He can legally sign documents, buy a lottery ticket or tobacco, and be officially added to the government roster of young men available to serve their country. I’m not sure any of these are on his radar screen; he’s still just trying to keep up his grades, hold down a part-time job, pursue his love of music and sleep in whenever possible.



This birthday did cause us to reminisce a bit. We were remembering what was important to Andrew at different times of his life. There were Legos and Matchbox cars. There was the Pokemon obsession, with the sought after Pokemon cards and their strangely named characters: Pikachu, Meowth, Clefairy and Jigglypuff (my personal favorite). There was the year of Furby and its special language known as Furbish. Andrew had his sights set on the white Furby, and I made countless trips to the local toy stores, searching for The One.



Now it’s all about computers, video games, and music. The small items that were once so meaningful are tucked away in storage boxes. I’m sure they’ll be forgotten as he moves on to college and leaves so many childhood things behind. I hope that one day, though, those boxes will be opened and many happy memories will come tumbling out. Those mementos will be waiting--and so will I.