Chapter 21 - The College Essay
Noah applied to college.
His counselor suggested essay about “overcoming adversity.”
He refused.
Good.
He wrote about rebuilding vintage radios with Daniel.
Ordinary.
When he told me, I cheered.
“Why?”
“Because you are allowed to be interesting for things other than what happened at eight weeks.”
He smiled.
Then he was accepted to Purdue? University of Cincinnati? Let's choose Ohio State engineering.
Daniel joked:
“Traitor.”
No.
Maybe he chooses University of Michigan? This becomes sports. Not needed.
Let's say Ohio State for biomedical engineering? Influenced by hospital? Could be. Better environmental engineering to avoid trauma. He loved bridges.
He left home.
Megan helped move?
Noah invited both parents.
Daniel and Sarah.
Megan.
I stayed? Of course maybe I helped.
Patricia not.
At dorm, conflict.
Megan reached for fitted sheet.
Daniel reached same.
They froze.
Then laughed.
Co parenting after years.
No romance.
Then Noah said:
“Everyone leave.”
We did.
I cried elevator.
Megan too.
She looked.
“Hard.”
“Yes.”
Then for first time, we hugged?
Maybe too intimate. We can just stand.
She said:
“Thank you.”
Again.
I said:
“You've thanked.”
“I know.”
Then:
“I’m glad you let me become more than worst.”
I corrected.
“I didn’t let. Noah did.”
She nodded.
Important.
Then college.
Noah called Megan more than Daniel sometimes because she listened differently.
Daniel jealous.
Therapy.
Noah not responsible.
Then Thanksgiving.
Everyone at Daniel and Sarah's.
Megan invited by Noah.
Huge.
Patricia not? Noah could invite maybe separate.
First holiday under one roof with me and Megan since hospital.
I prepared.
No drama.
Megan brought pie.
I brought potatoes.
At table, Lily, now eight, asked:
“How does everybody know Noah?”
We laughed.
Then after dinner, Noah said:
“I want one picture.”
He arranged:
Daniel.
Sarah.
Megan.
Me.
Him.
Lily.
No Patricia.
No one asked.
Camera clicked.
Megan did not stand center.
Neither did I.
Then Noah posted? No.
Private.
He said:
“This is weird family.”
“Yes.”
Healthy.
Then later he asked if Patricia could come next year.
Maybe.
One step.
Then my own aging.
At seventy six, I downsized.
Noah helped.
Found old blue blanket.
The one hospital.
I had kept.
He held.
“This?”
“Yes.”
“Do I want?”
“Your choice.”
He took.
Not trauma symbol maybe comfort.
He washed and kept in storage.
Then he found my heavy winter coat.
“What about?”
“Donate.”
No meaning.
Then at college he used blue blanket over chair? Perhaps not.
May you like
He later gave to his own child? Maybe final.
Let's not yet.
