By Alan Zendell
There comes a time
when they leave for good. Really.
After raising my
two sons in Seattle, I brought them kicking and screaming to Maryland during
their high school years. They were
furious.
At a ballgame in
the old Kingdome, they complained to Orioles’ pitcher Jim Palmer that they were
being kidnapped and dragged off to a terrible place. I guess they forgot that Baltimore was in
Maryland. Later, Palmer spoke directly
to them during a post-game radio broadcast promising that they’d love Maryland. They accused me of bribing him to say it.
The moment they
graduated from college in 1991 and 1993 they announced that they were “going
home,” got in their respective cars, and drove west…to San Diego.
Go figure. At least they got the
time zone right.
Over the next few
years they couldn’t decide where they wanted to be. The younger one returned to Maryland and left
again three times. He moved so often, he
had to file tax returns in five states one year (well, four plus the District
of Columbia). Then it was off to
Australia, where he met his wife, and finally to San Diego again. They were married there in 2005, and he says
they’ll never leave. I believe him this
time.
His brother came
back to Maryland for a year in 1999 −
he swore it wouldn’t be a day longer –
and stayed for eleven. To be fair he’d
met a girl here. He married her in
2006. They moved to Philadelphia in 2010
so she could completely her residency in dermatology. They’re here now, living in my house while
she studies for her boards. I have a
whole month with my seven-month old grandson and their golden retriever before
I have to say goodbye again. In August,
they’re leaving for good, to Orlando.
This is getting
old. I’m getting old.
It’s for real this
time. They’ll be off making their own
lives. Who knows, they may not even ask to
borrow money any more. There’ll be
visits, and we might even move to be closer to our grandchild(ren?). But I have to face it. This is a new phase of life. I’ve been officially retired for five years
(which means I work twice as hard as I did before) and my wife says she’ll
retire in January. It’s our time to
travel and enjoy life with no responsibilities.
She wants to see
more of the world. So do I, but
honestly, I’m content tutoring kids in math and writing and watching
baseball. We love our home. We
paid off our mortgage years ago. We’re
financially prepared for retirement. This
is a happy time…isn’t
it? Isn’t
it?
Then why am I so sad? I’ve said goodbye so many times, why is this
time so much harder? We’re already
planning where to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. Is that what my life is going to be?
No. This really is our time. We start next month, celebrating our forty-eighth
anniversary. Without the kids, but so
what? We have each other and we’re
healthy, and not everyone can say that.
We’re going to take a cruise on the Danube for our forty-ninth.
What am I complaining about?
Alan spent more than
thirty years as a scientist, aerospace engineer, software consultant, database
developer, and government analyst, writing really boring stuff like proposals, technical
papers, reports, business letters, and policy memoranda. But trapped inside him all that time were
stories that needed telling and ideas that needed expression, so with
encouragement and cajoling from a loving baby sister he plunged into fiction.
Since then, he has written
mostly science and extrapolative fiction, the genre he loved since he was
nine. But his stories are about more
than aliens and technical marvels. He
creates strong, three-dimensional characters a reader can care about, because it’s
people and the way they live and love that are important. It’s the things they believe in and how much
they’re willing to invest to preserve them that make a story worth
telling. It’s convincing interactions
and well-researched credible plots that make a story worth reading.
And, of course, like any
writer, Alan loves having an audience. Find Alan's books: http://www.amazon.com/Alan-Zendell/e/B0053XU04K
1 comment:
Oh, wow, Alan, what an experience. I cried forever--almost--when our boys left the nest, but fortunately I gradually began enjoying the empty nest. It's nice tho that they live close. Double blessings w/grandsons. :)
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