When I look at him sometimes, I can see him as as a young man;  his lanky gait, tousled brown hair and kind blue eyes that look into your soul.

But just a moment later, betrayed by the hint of baby fat in his cheeks when he smiles, he is still my little boy.

 That wide- eyed and curious newborn the doctor placed on my chest, who’s boo boos I have kissed and hands I have held and fears I have calmed . . .will step on a bus tomorrow morning on his way to a new adventure.

And I will miss him.  And I will think about him all day.  And I will be waiting for him to come home to me.