Somewhere, high over the Nebraska corn fields, the ride home got rough.
And when it did, a teenage girl hand next to me tightly wrapped itself around my wrist. “I just hate turbulence, I just hate it”, said Younger Daughter, as we encountered bumps in the air.
Soon, that hand will loosen its grip, loose its fear of turbulence, and generally not be there as much any more. Life is like that. I know those emotional bumps will be more painful for me than these clear air ones, at 38,000 feet and Mach 0.75
This past week was spent in Boston, looking at colleges with high school sophomore daughter. What a great city Boston is....the deep history of the Freedom Trail, North End, Boston Common. And then the colleges, Tufts, Boston University, Northeastern, and Boston College. Even a trip to Harvard Yard. Oh my. I want to be 18 again! Wait, I take that back. No I don't.
I left the East Coast feeling greatly encouraged and enthusiastic about the state of higher education, certainly at least in Massachusetts. Enthusiasm, joy for learning, and minds ready to challenge the future, all very encouraging to this middle-aged fellow.
And so, that grip on my arm is gradually less.
If anything happens as a result of this college trip, and the someday soon ensuing college education, it will be that this same hand, the one that gripped my arm at 38,000 feet, will, after graduation, reach out in service, in creativity, in real friendship, and in compassion to a world that needs a hand to hold.
That is my hope.
