I'm telling you now...

My oldest nephew graduates from college today. 

I remember where I was when I got the call announcing his birth.  It was a shabby college apartment.  It was the Monday before Thanksgiving.  It was right after dinner.  If memory serves correctly, I immediately grabbed a bottle of Root Beer Schnapps, announced to my roommates that I was an uncle, and toasted (and re-toasted then re-re-toasted) the good news.  Details regarding the remainder of the evening are somewhat hazy; however, there’s a distinct possibility that the U of I women’s bowling team was involved.  But any-hoo…

Any of you ladies want to buff my bowling balls?

Flash forward to last night.  After work, I spent a couple of glorious hours registering my children for 4^th and 7^th grade.  And trust me, if you’ve never done that before… it’s exactly as fun as you’d think (imagine Disneyworld size lines mixed with an inner-city Wal-Mart atmosphere).  Because the wait was long and because I could no longer tolerate the people surrounding me, my mind began to wander.  I started to think of the short time left before my sons graduate from high school… and then college.

I know, I know… they’ve still got many years to go.  But seeing how quickly the years between my nephew’s birth (and my subsequent run in with the “lady” bowlers) and his graduation passed… I’m thinking there’s not as much time left as I’d hoped.

For those of you who don’t know, our family has been blessed with unique challenges.  My oldest son is the smartest person I’ve ever met.  He’s the sweetest person I know.  And, he also happens to have high-functioning autism.   Through that, he has managed to maintain a straight-A average and win his way into the hearts of everyone who’s ever met him.  Our youngest son was born with a congenital heart defect.  He had two heart surgeries prior to his second birthday.  He’s the bravest soul I’ve ever met and the one person I’d want to have my back in case of a zombie apocalypse.  He’s a fighter and every bit as smart as his brother.

So as I entered my happy place in line at registration last night, I began to imagine the scene at their respective graduations.  I’ll tell you now… it’s NOT going to be pretty.  So let this stand as your official warning…  Please don’t ask me how I’m feeling that day.  Definitely don’t approach me in a “huggy” way.  And, whatever you do… don’t try to stop me from sobbing uncontrollably.  Trust me… it’s a good cry.  I’ve earned it.

And little Johnny was never seen again.

There IS one thing you CAN do for me though.  If you see any female bowlers lurking about… tell them I split.