THERE

Evan is there. Away. At school.
And, by all accounts on Facebook (the only way we've really managed to hear from him), he is happy and well, and apparently "NEVER MOVING BACK HOME!"

How quickly we went from this:

(Evan reading his acceptance letter to BYU-I )

to this:

(Driving away to Rexburg, ID. That car was so jam-packed, we barely had room to fit the family!)

and to this:
Boo hoo.

I really did cry, but this wasn't when. This was when Evan was saying, "I have to go, Mom... The guys are coming...You don't need another picture...I'm leaving now," all because people from his welcoming team were coming to get him for first night/get to know you activities/night games.
The guys did come and Evan did refuse any more pictures. Our last view of him was as he ran down the hall yelling, "Lock the door when you leave!"

"Well," said Michael, "I guess that's it. Eighteen years* of raising him, and he runs down the hall with his friends."

Only if you do it right.

So that's how dropping off our oldest child at college ended;
with him dropping us.

This is how it began:

We drove 30 minutes from our nephew Adam's Idaho Falls apartment to the very small, very clean, very snowy BYU Idaho campus in Rexburg. It is beautiful, and set right below the temple.

We found the building where Evan was to register.

He got out of the car, and I started to cry.

"You can't go to college, Evan. I haven't taught you everything! I'm not done yet! I promise I'll be nice if you stay! I'll do your laundry. I'll clean your room!"

Sweet Evan put his hand on my arm and said, "I know, Mom. It is kind of sad."

And then he walked away!

He registered, got his dorm room key, paid for food, had his ID card made, bought his books, got a job (thanks, Adam!), talked to his counselor, and went to the meeting for incoming students.

Later we found his dorm room, brought all his stuff into his dorm room, shopped for more stuff for his dorm room, and then, he left us in his dorm room!

The end.
And another beginning.

*Being a late-comer to this family, I have only had just shy of 13 years raising Evan. And every moment was...exactly as it should be. Sometimes hard, often fun, always joyful.

When I think of the joy I've had with these boys, I also think of the gratitude I have for their real mother, Lynne. Without her, there wouldn't be any of this.

Certainly it's easier not to have to share. That's my tactless honesty about the whole thing.
But also in all honesty, I would be oh so wrong not to know that she's still a part of things, and oh so much more wrong not to say thank you for the gift of motherhood she gave me, wittingly, willingly, or not.

So here's my ethereal shout out to the heavens: none of us truly knows the effect we have on others' lives. Thank you, Lynne, for all the ways you've affected my life for good. Your boys are genuinely good, grand to the core, and awesome to the hilt. I am grateful to you for the opportunity I have to know and raise them.