a door opens and a dream is answered: my boy writes the next chapter

From the minute I held my black-haired son in my arms in a past-midnight hospital room, I knew that nothing would ever be as important to me as his health and happiness.  When the world has opened to this child of mine, I have soared. When the world has said, Not now, wait, I have walked the house in the dark, wearing out the floorboards, quaking.  If he isn't happy, my own happiness runs thin.  If things stall for him, they stall for me.

This summer, that now-grown son of mine graduated from the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University, moved back home, picked up endless hours at the local movie theater to earn his modest keep, and began the process of looking for the right next career step.  He had the chance to interview with some leading agencies—one in New York City and one in Boston.  He sent letters, daily, to firms across the country.  He brought so much patience to the process, so much ingenuity and dignity, so much of himself.  He asked for nothing from anyone, sold himself on his own merits, did it well.  Several weeks ago he found a right opportunity.  And then he waited for the door to open.

This morning we learned that it has, and one day after Labor Day, our son will be headed off to work, from his own urban apartment—handsome as all get out no matter how you look at him, strong-backed, square jawed, and happy.  I'll be here, in the suburbs, entirely glad for him.  It's that mother thing.  We know it well.

This is a photograph snatched on graduation day—Rodi and Mario, my brothers in law, and Nora, my mother-in-law.  One come from London, one from Dallas, and the lady in pink from El Salvador—all of them as happy as my husband and I were.  (My brother and his wife graciously joined us on graduation weekend as well, they are just not in this shot.)  There was so much joy that day—so much hope.  And that hope has been met with good news.

Lucky, and we know it.

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The Philly.com Interview by Allie Caren, a lovely S.I. Newhouse Student

I have had this image of the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications (Syracuse University) read to rock and roll for Allie Caren, who has been interning at the Philadelphia Daily News this summer, all week long.  Allie and I met on a warm day in the new Philadelphia Inquirer building a few weeks ago, and we've enjoyed a correspondence ever since then.  Between the time and I met her and the time her profile of me was published (today), a very big thing has happened to Allie:  She's been accepted to S.I. Newhouse, the premier communications school in the country, my son's alma mater, and also the alma mater of my Philomel publicist, Jessica Shoffel.  All good things, then, at Newhouse.

Allie, a million thanks for this story—for taking an interest and for telling it so well.  And sweeping good luck to you as you now enter the school of your dreams.

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Home (on graduation and the wisdom of Aaron Sorkin)

 

It will take me a long time to process the beauty of these past three days.  Tonight, arriving home, my camera full of images forever blurred from the shaking of my hands, I want only to thank those who joined us to celebrate our son's graduation from a school he has loved.  I want to thank my friends, who have written and sent cards.  I want, too, to thank (in that odd, stranger's way of thanking) Aaron Sorkin, who spoke with such eloquence at the ceremony, such heart and honesty.  There is a kind of intelligence that doesn't take itself for granted.  There are words that are not just crafted but felt.  Aaron Sorkin argued for a certain kind of transcendence today.  He was the perfect speaker for an emotional day. 

We are grateful.

I am grateful.

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Graduation Weekend

This is the glorious S. I. Newhouse School of Public Communications on the Syracuse University campus.  Our great thanks to Jeff, my brother, Donna, my sister-in-law, Nora, my mother-in-law, and my two brothers-in-law, Mario and Rodi, for coming from around the world (New York, El Salvador, Dallas, London) to celebrate with us.

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