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Last week my husband and daughter went on vacation. They love theme parks and roller coasters - my daughter especially. Actually, love would be an understatement. She worships them. They're the screen savers on her computer. She watches YouTube videos of roller coasters across America so she can figure out which one she wants to go on next. For her, this was more than a vacation. It was a pilgrimage.
It was also a great opportunity for me to spend some time with my 16 year old son. He was my first, and for the first three years of his life - it was just us three. Sometimes it seemed more like just the two of us since my husband was working so many hours to make up for the loss of my income so I could stay home for as long as possible. Of course then - he was just a little guy. He and his best friend would spend countless hours battling with light sabers in what seemed like an eternal Star Wars episode. That was many years ago and those light sabers have moved from three different houses, been saved from bulk trash pick up day by me more than twice, and now stashed in the back of the garage. Yes, they were toys he had grown out of, but to me they represented a time when life was simpler - when a trip to the toy store could fix anything.
I wasn't ready to give them up. I kept them for me, I know that.
He's different now. He's learning to drive. His voice is so deep I hardly recognize him on the phone. His friends came over to hang out. The living room became their base of operations. They played guitar, video games, went out to get Pizza, and had long philosophical conversations about music. They laughed a lot. They fell asleep sprawled all over the place. Even the couch wasn't long enough for any of them.
After most of the boys had left, I heard some running around downstairs so I came down to see who was still here. That was when I saw my son and his friend - dueling with light sabers. They stopped short, looked at me and said "We can explain this." to which I responded. "There's nothing to explain. Whose winning, red or green?"
One said "RED!" The other said "GREEN!" and they took off around the corner.
Later on, when I was putting away some clean laundry, I saw that my son had placed the light sabers in his closet, leaning them against the back wall. I thought that was best. This way he'll know where they are when he needs them the next time.
I wasn't the only one not ready to give them up.