How to Drop Your Son off at University and Flash Thirty People

It was a day that I'd imagined a hundred times, and it was a day that somehow appeared out of nowhere. How can something exist only in the distant future and stare you in the face without warning? I think I was a little rattled.

I remember these images: hugging him goodbye in his dorm, snapping a photo of Sterling as she watched him register for his parking pass and entry codes, laughing as Aleksandra applied a Cedarville logo to his car... and then I remember the quiet drive away from that campus. 

Stunned. Time has never felt fast to me, but the clarity of this moment is intense like a lightening strike. Flash... and gone.

Earlier in the day we stood in the bookstore for the fourth time. We'd walked and driven in circles for the past three hours, trying to figure out what to do next as we collectively remained calm and privately fought panic in our minds. Surely Caleb was the most sane of us all.

When Kellie asked him if he was "ok", he said something to the effect that, "the only thing that makes me nervous is all of you." I smiled. He was going to be just fine.

And then there was me. Something inside of me decided that I needed a Cedarville shirt. Not just the "Cedarville Dad" shirt that was on sale for $9.99, I mean seriously... are all Dad's cheapskates? I decided I'd look like a dork. And so I ventered over to the student apparel.

There has been a phenomenon that occurred since I went to college. Sizes shrank to "skinny" and materials changed from cotton to some nasty poly blend that is called, "wicking." Hello universe... polyester is cheap, we're all getting ripped off. Wicking only means that your sweat can't escape!

But I stood with three options and I squeezed into the first. It was too small. I had a t-shirt on underneath so I just grabbed the shirt tail and pulled up. The wicking shirt unexpectedly held onto my trusty cotton t-shirt and there I stood with my hands over my head and my chest exposed to my neck. I was inexplicably bound, both unable to remove the shirt or roll it back down.

To my horror... I looked up to see no less than thirty students, parents, and bookstore staff all staring at me in shock. There I stood... flashing them all. In desperation, I said to Kellie and Aleksandra, "Help me" because I was dreadfully stuck. I did a 360 so my back was to the audience as they rolled the shirt down my body and then helped me escape from its wicking clutches. 

You should have seen the sideways glances when I approached the counter to purchase a hooded shirt... one size larger. I'm not a pot-bellied Dad, but I'm not a waif student either! I might have muttered, "sorry about the show" as I was handed my receipt.

Well... Caleb, I hope things are going well for you. I also hope my picture isn't posted along with the Campus Security warnings. Next time I visit, I plan to try on some pants.

Love, Dad.

Caleb Thomas Shepherd: I Believe in You and the One Who Holds You.

I'm a slow processor, a deep thinker. My mind does heavy lifting when I leave it alone. The more significant the event, the longer the incubation. I saved this photo to my drive the day I snapped it, two weeks ago. 

I remember the day I left for university. I was so eager and I never looked back. I wanted life as an adult. I was ready to put away childish things. I was fully unaware of leaving my family abruptly. Suddenly my room that had been filled with crashes, thumps, and once the sound of breaking glass as I fell from my bed and went butt-first through a window... it all went silent for my Dad and Mom.

I remember one specific morning from childhood with clarity. Certainly I remember more than one, but this one stands above the rest. I uncharacteristically woke up first (I still prefer to sleep in) and sneaked into the kitchen to find that Dad had left me a 6-pack of Hostess chocolate doughnuts. 

I snatched them, ran quietly into my bedroom, dove underneath my bed, and ate them with a sort of forbidden enjoyment. That insight could have helped me avoid future heartbrake. I could have simply eaten them at the table.

And I remember the day I walked out of that room for the final time as a full time occupant. My clothes were loaded into a 1978 avocado green Buick Skylark. I'd crashed and totalled my earlier vehicle in a mindless pursuit to recover a lost necklace. It was growing dark and so I decided to drive to Meijer to purchase a flashlight, rather than admit to the Planck family that I needed a flashlight to recover my lost jewelry... and in my haste, ran a stop sign and T-boned a family of 8 who had recently fled Iraq... in 1991, while George H.W. Bush was blowing up Saddam. 

I suppose that's another story?

But here I am now. Sitting on a third floor balcony in Destin, Florida... contemplating the recent departure of my son. 

He's been with us for some time now. He arrived September the ninth, year two-thousand (9/9/00). Our life was crazy then and he was our anchor. I'd been fired from my job just a few weeks before his birth. My boss read my email that I'd written to my uncle. I was bragging about convincing her to wear an eye patch.

I was in San Diego, working a trade show booth for a textile manufacturer. My boss didn't like me much. She was sleeping with the owner of the company and I didn't figure into her business plan. She got drunk one night and then somehow poked herself in the eye. We were on our way to take clients out to an expensive dinner. I convinced her to walk into a pharmacy and purchase a black eye patch.

She wore it to dinner... I made fun of her to the clients... and then bragged about it to my uncle. She got the last laugh when she watched me later carry out my things in a box.

Kellie and I did not know what we would do. I spent two hours hiding in my garage in my Fruit of the Looms because Kellie's Mom showed up at our house one day when I was supposed to be at work. It was a hot summer day and I sat on the hood of the car. I felt ashamed that I'd lost my job just weeks before the birth of their grandson. 

When I held Caleb in my arms for the first time, I knew that everything would be ok. 

It simply had to be. Because... him.

This September marks 18 years of age for him. In my mind I just graduated high school. Time makes no sense to my mind. I have memories along the way, but am in sheer disbelief of the passage. I feel like I have never moved from this spot and yet somehow the panorama has shifted.

Now my mind must acknowledge this phenomenon. My son Caleb is a young man, an adult who has stepped away from our home and will never return for good. His next place of permanance will be one of his own creation.

Caleb is away for seven weeks at Camp Marengo as a Camp Counselor. When he returns, we'll have him in his room for only a couple of short weeks... and then he departs for Cedarville University. Life for him will begin to change. 

I helped him carry his large trunk of clothes into his car while I was fully aware of the significance of that moment and also a spectator of the memory of myself doing the exact same thing. The sensation was somehow beyond self. I was the participant in both roles. 

I watch this unfold as both participant and spectator. This is sensory overload like a Kindergartner on a field trip to her first Imax experience about the universe. The waves crash steady on the beach and I cling to them for sanity.

For sanity.

I am so thankful to see Caleb grow. His integrity and the promise of his future is such an undeserved joy to my heart. I love him so very deeply. My grounding with him is no less constant that the ever crashing waves on the shore. 

And so, finally I've typed it. These words that must accomapany that photo above. The one that overwhelmed me the moment I pushed the capture button.

Caleb... dream God-sized dreams. Whatever you can imagine, dream, or conceive, the vision God has is so much more. Your worth is in Him and He is limitless. Reach. Cast your all into Him and He will still exceed your measure.

Captured. Yes, for the past two weeks.

Tarzaning is a Risky Business (Caleb & the Grapevine)

I just can't figure out WHERE he gets these ideas???

The most amazing part of my life is watching my children grow up and walking beside them. I love seeing them grow older and find their place in life. I love every bump and bruise that forms their character like the plates of the earth forming mountains.

We had such a moment in our house today... and I am so thankful.

Caleb as he gets older, is becoming increasingly more adventuresome. Fears that once held his feet to the earth are now being cast aside as he chases the wonder sparks belief. He grasped the loose end of the vine that hung from the canopy of the forest, took a running leap from the creek bank, lifted his feet and soared through the air. His body pendulumed into the air to a peak, and then began its return swing back to the ground where he pushed off.

He released his grip perhaps too soon, and fell to the ground. Snapping and breaking sounds erupted from overhead. It sounded like the woods were being torn apart with teeth. The vine fell around him... and on him. His left leg was struck just above the knee and the force knocked the air from his lungs.

His chest struggled to draw breath back through his throat and his instincts were to run because the treetops still were falling. And so he rose against the pain and he ran to the top of the hilltop where he collapsed with pain. His leg was injured.

His mamaw looked him over and his papaw carried him out of the woods and delivered him to me.

He was shaken, but brave. A bruise was forming on his leg and when he straightened it to stand, the pain caused him to sharply intake air through clenched teeth. And so, we took a moment to pray.

We prayed acknowledging that God is with us, whether we are well, and even when we are hurt. We prayed asking that his leg be mended, that Caleb be well so that we could continue running on this journey to pursue our visions. But we also trusted God no matter what the outcome. We have no expectations and we deserve nothing. We promised to seek peace in whatever may be.

And so... 200 mg aspirin, leg elevated, ice pack, and rest with a Kindle.

Within an hour, he was walking on the leg. Within two hours we went and met friends for dinner. Within 3 hours, Caleb was able to bowl and score well. The leg still bears witness to the injury, and he is experiencing some pain... but the experience of faith and belief in the presence of God... that has become the significant event of the day.

I hope he never stops swinging on grapevines. I hope he is never too afraid to allow his feet to leave the ground. I hope he always trusts that God will be beside him when he falls.

We can not always control the fall... but we can reach out to the hand of God and know that our outcome is secondary to the relationship. My son grew a little today and I am thankful for this faith... and I am thankful for mamaws, papaws, and grapevines. We live life all in!

Sixth Grade Doodles

He is in 6th grade now. Oh man... I REALLY hated the 6th grade. I had a teacher named Mr. Weinger. Can you imagine the trouble my mouth got me into with that name? Mr. Weinger hated whenever paper was crumpled. So, naturally I had to crumple it whenever the mood struck me.

It struck me often.

I even developed a plan. Me and Jimmie and Darren. We sat in a triangle pattern and would randomly crumple a piece of paper... just a little... whenever his back was turned. It worked really well for a very few brief minutes.

I believe it ended with us all writing on the blackboard, "I will not crumple paper." That was a long 45 minutes.

I'm just sayin'.

NOT Mr. Weinger

Memories of My Infant Son

Journal Entry: 12/15/01


Where Does Eternity Reside?


Yes, I suppose we will arrive at the day when he rides a bike, skins a knee, and ruins his pants in the mud. He'll want the hot new robot/soldier that's half animal and half man from outer space toy. He'll like bologna and PB&J sandwiches. He'll think it's funny to pee from high places and throw paper-wads at girls. He'll want to smash his cheeseburger and dip his fries in his milkshake. Maybe he'll even think his father is a superhero!


But, for right now we're all perfectly happy with snugly bottles, fresh diapers, and the smell of baby cleanness right after a warm evening bath. We adore those smiles that display all eight proud teeth, and nothing is more precious than a pure laugh shared as we exchange a moment-held glance.


Its hard to understand... but eternity resides there.


I like the smashed bananas and the incredible wonder of a word being spoken from his shining face for the first time. I love to get patted on the back by him when I pick him up fresh from a nap and nuzzle into his infant embrace.


If time must come, then at least for now we will embrace each day and notice eternity in the details.




Journal Entry: 5/29/02


The Finding of Simple Treasure


Life has simple treasures that are greater than the world. Little yellow tractors that talk and son smiles. Shared moments. Laughter making an appearance unexpected among days of worry. Small realization of the pleasure of this living. The warmth of blankets on chill-bumped limbs, or the wonderful fragrance of a flower just before the sneeze... I love contrasts such as these. 


The duality of life.


Is this moment heaven? When did I die? If so--please let me stay. This is home and my soul is settled. The search for reality is no longer my goal. This finding of simple treasure has brought me home.




Journal Entry: 8/15/01


Silent Applause is Best


The quick patter of palms
rapidly from side to side.
Only escaping the torrential
flood of joy to hide.



Journal Entry: 10/1/02


He Sleeps with Dinosaurs



He sleeps with sharp-tooth and long-neck.
He dreams of eating star-fruits and finding Big Water.


My dreams are comforted by his calm sleep.
Finding realities' truths in the comfort of his crib.


His life, given freely...
freed to live, lived to dream


And...suddenly my soul is freed
as I remember that I once slept with dinosaurs.




Journal Entry: 11/8/02


The Perspectives of Dinosaurs

My life is consumed by dinosaurs.
My nights are blanketed by lullabies.
My eyes drift closed as prayers float upward.
The night engulfs my dreams.


His reality is ruled by dinosaurs.
His nights are held safe by our love.
His eyes drift closed as prayers float upward.
Angel protections surround his dreams.


He created the dinosaurs.
Our nights are spent under the shadow of His wing.
His eyes never leave us as our prayers float upward.
He is the author of our dreams.

A Bedtime Memory... (8/3/02)

He was crying while the movie began. It was I Am Sam. I had placed so much importance on watching it's start. I yelled, "go back to bed Caleb!" I heard him wimper softly, longingly, "Daddy... Momma...." and then, silence.


I realized he was much more important. I climbed the stairs and stepped over the gate. He was sitting up. Looking, waiting, hoping for me. Memories of my own childhood fearful nights crashed down on me. I remembered tearfully waiting for mom or dad--just hoping they would come save me from the shadows...somehow interpreting my silent screams.


He reached out for me. As I raised him to my left shoulder, he began to pat my back. The universe came into focus and my heart found its place. I felt the weight and warmth of his body every bit as real as the comfort of the moment.


I closed my eyes and tasted the full pallete of emotion...the incredible flood of feelings that were colored by every emotion I had every felt. I told him, "I wish I could spend every day with you. Days of fun like we had today. Go night-night honey and when you wake-up we'll have another fun day together tomorrow. He said, "ok" and continued patting my back.


My feelings were so strong they blinded me. My impulse was to hold him closer and say, "I love you Caleb" followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. The realization that he listened to my words...that he understood my words... we shared some communication at a deep level. 


I felt total. Completely unknown levels of satisfaction and happiness. He wanted to have fun with me tomorrow. He caused me to be Daddy.


I layed down with him and he rolled into his sleeping position with knees bent and tucked under his belly. I covered his feet with his blanket and patted his back. He closed his eyes.


I whispered thanks to God that I had this experience. That I didn't let harsh words and tears end the night.

Subtle Wisdom of Trees

I heard a gentle knocking at the door and realized two things: I had needlessly locked it out of habit, and Caleb was at the door first (his sister would have been pounding it).

I turned the bolt, opened the door, and in bounced Caleb proudly and protectively holding a small tree wrapped in a paper-towel and a bit of plastic wrap. In an instant my mind swept back nearly 24 years.

Arbor day, 1987 I was a buck-toothed, four-eyed fifth grader that made friends making fart sounds and folding paper frogs. The Arbor-day folks passed out Elm trees and I remember what a great day it was when I took it home and my dad helped me plant it in the backyard.  We mowed around that tree for 7 years, and then I went to college.  Each summer when I came home I would walk back and measure its growth. That tree kept growing and getting taller each year, and it always brought back the memory of that day me and my father placed it in the ground.

It was a bit of a monument for me, and it still is. A good day for a father and son to learn about life, hard work, long-term reward, and working together on something meaningful.

I asked Caleb if I could help him plant it, and he quickly smiled and said, "yeah, sure." I asked him where he wanted to plant it, silently hoping he would select the back yard. Of course that was not the case, he wanted it directly in the middle of the front lawn. I measured in my mind the strange looking twig sticking out of the front yard against his excitement and the importance of this memory.

We geared up in our work clothes, me with my large leather gloves and spade, and Caleb with his boy-sized gloves and shovel. We stepped off the yard, selected our spot, and began tearing up the sod in the middle of my front lawn with two of my neighbors observing.

"What are you doing there?" I replied, "Planting a tree." He said, "And you're digging up all that good dirt?" "Yep." Caleb cut out the first piece of earth and then I helped him form the bed that would surround the tree. The neighborhood observers now grew to three retirees. I could hear them muttering to themselves as we continued to remove the earth and form our new home for the Dogwood.

The time came for us to put the tree into the earth. We took off our gloves so we could feel the richness of the cool soil on our hands. Caleb carefully unwrapped the roots and I saw him looking closely at their substance. After a moment, he held it over the ground and looked up with a smile as I took a picture. The neighbors suddenly stopped their conversation and caught the moment with heartfelt clarity spreading across each face. I received a silent nod from Ron as I realized this man, my friend now thought of his own father and son.

The tree now is plainly visible as an 18" stick surrounded by a cubic yard of mulch. But when I see it, I see a beautiful 30' tree that shades the front of our home and that also represents two very significant days in my life. I hope that this tree and this day can someday be a good memory for my son.

It surely always will be for me.

I get one shot at this, and I am so thankful I did not miss this moment. The subtle wisdom of trees.

A Warm December

Journal Entry: December 5, 2001

(A beautiful, unseasonably warm day)

It must have reached seventy degrees today.

My soul must have held the reflection of the sun.

The wheels rolled on the little red wagon

And the Radio Flyer carried my dreams.

A boy and his dog in the comfort of a fathers pull.

Memories tugged from summers and canines past.

The laughter of my son secrets to me that

life has meaning and I have purpose.

To love and to live.

And to be aware of the warmth in december.

Red Van and Sharp Tooth (A Caleb Thomas Story)

(From my Journal: April 23, 2003)

He rides in a red van, dinosaur in hand. He mimicks my words and attempts to mirror my faces. He likes to eat french-fries and candy--orange juice is a new favorite. His bedroom has one red wall--he picked it out himself, and quite forcefully (at a decisive age of two).


Sticky hands to him are quite so much upsetting--indeed cause for a scream. Although, a soiled bottom is not yet bothersome enough to merit use of the big boy potty. Hot wheels and spiderman have the ability to fly, and applesauce has an amazing tendancy to cling to his face and whatever else is within arms reach.


And...oh how everyone is easily classified as "good-guy" or "bad-guy." Darth Maul, buy the way, is most definitely a "bad-guy," although Anakin is still a bit confusing... 


Sharing is great with the neighbor's toys, although more than traumatic with his own. His most spoken phrases are: 


#1 "whas-sat?" (Translation--what exactly is the thing I make reference to with my finger, what does it do, why it it here, will it hurt me, is it a "good-guy" or "bad-guy" and...wait while I ask it no less than 30 times),


#2, "I scared," (Translation--I don't want to go to bed, take a bath, go to so and so, sit in my chair, or go the the potty so maybe this ploy will work) and of course, 


#3 "Huh?" (Translation--I generally am not interested in following your line of questioning/ conversation because I find it dull, threatening, nosey, and I like to see you grow increasingly frustrated as you continue to repeat yourself to me."


However, I'll please have my oatmeal in the morning, cheese and crackers for lunch, candy for dinner, sharp-tooth in hand (at all times...10 months now...WOW!) keep my hands clean, ride in my red van to "see Papaw" and bless you on occasion with bliss as I smile at you and give you a hug. I may even tell you, "I love you too." 


And for now...the red van is in the garage, we have said good-night to Jesus and the moon, and I rest my head by my red wall with my sharp-tooth safely in my hand. And my daddy watches with complete happiness.

Sharp-Tooth is in MANY photos...