Our son begins the rest of his life

Last December, the Son-ster spent a good chunk of his vacation completing applications to numerous graduate schools—he’ll be seeking a doctorate in condensed matter physics.

The grad schools, as is standard procedure, took their sweet time replying.

A month or so later, our young man started the great summer-job hunt.

In this, he was stymied by our beloved United States Congress, which couldn’t get off its collective duff long enough to pass a budget. Without a Federal budget, the National Laboratories couldn’t determine how many college science students and/or recent college science graduates they would be able to hire for summer research positions.

Months passed before the first grad school acceptances and rejections started to arrive. It was only about a week and a half ago that the field was finally narrowed to the three schools that had not only accepted the Son-ster, but had offered him full scholarships and part-time employment as a teaching assistant, as well.

Meanwhile, back at the schoolhouse, our son got a pleasant surprise—unbeknownst to him, one of his physics professors had recommended him for a summer job in a science laboratory at a different upstate (meaning northern) New York university! He had no idea how many people he was competing against, and wasn’t betting on getting the job.

Finally, the phone call came in this past Friday morning—having just visited the last of the three universities that had accepted him and offered financial support, the Son-ster had chosen his school. And, to boot, he’d gotten that summer job!

Our son is graduating this coming Friday. He'll begin his summer job the following week, and may very well go straight from there to grad school in mid-August, unless he stops off for a day or two to pick up some things from, well, his soon-to-be-former home. Barring unforeseen circumstances, it's likely that he'll never live with us again. It's a weird feeling, watching one's once-a-baby bird leave the nest.