home at last

I get a call yesterday morning.

"Hi mom. Listen. The Cornell bus gets in around five. Please be home because I have no money to pay for the cab."

"What about your bank card?"

"The one I have isn't working. I ordered a new one that I had mailed to the house."

"Okay, then use your (really my) American Express card."

"Remember, that expired and the new one was also sent to the house. I don't have one I can use."

"Okay; I'll be home."

Around 4:30 he arrives. I last saw him just a couple of week ago; still it feels great. 

I am going to try really hard to not nag and not complain about the things that would  normally annoy me.

We eat a quick dinner and Alexander invites some friends over. I say nothing when I'm awoken at 12:30 with some loud, animated discussion about football draft picks. Actually, I like the sound of Alexander's friends in our house.

I wake up this morning to loud, thumping music. This sound I don't like. It's early, and Alexander needs to leave soon for jury duty.  I just yell out, "Good morning," and say nothing  about the music.

A few minutes later Alexander asks, "Where's your Metrocard? I'll get one later." I simply tell him it's in my wallet.

"I still have no money.  Can you give me money for a bagel?" I do.

He leaves.  I look at his room, remembering with affection how it looked before he arrived home.

And how it looks this morning.

Still, it's nice to have my son home.