Another 4th of July weekend has come and gone. There are still loads of laundry to do and straightening up here and there. Lots of mattresses to stow and beds to be made. Shirts and socks and shorts that have lost their homes and the inevitable phone charger left behind.
But the very best thing that was left behind are the memories. Ah, the memories. I know these boys look like men, big men. But underneath their disciplined and muscled exterior, they are the funniest, sweetest, dearest and most sincere young men I could ever imagine knowing. And talented.....don't even get me started on their amazing gifts; each as unique as the young man himself. I won't tell them though. I will let them swagger and boast, tease and jab, wrestle and fight as men need to do. They can't fool me. I can see into each of their hearts. Each of their wide open hearts that they hold a little at bay, just a touch wary of who they let in to see their true selves. They can't fool me. Not these boys. Not my men.