Movin' on Up

On the way to breakfast with my son yesterday morning, he said, "I keep hearing this song in my head. Maybe it's a dream I had or something, I don't know. The words 'movin' on up' are in it, and there's a chorus of African American gospel singers doing the vocals."

Seems like it was just last month...

Then he hummed a few bars. It was, of course, the theme song from the 1970s TV show, The Jeffersons. (We watch a lot of ME TV.)

I began to sing along, assured him it was a real tune, explained its origins -- and noted it was a good musical selection for moving day.

My son and his buddies rented a house on the east side of town near their college campus. His two closest friends helped him schlep his worldly goods to his new digs. Like most student living spaces, his will be outfitted with what we like to call "shabby chic," although "chic" is doubtless a stretch. In addition to his "heirloom" bedroom suite (a twin bed and mismatched desk and dresser plus a night stand acquired at a rummage sale), he is bringing along some outdoor wicker furniture and a table purchased from a friend (who got it from the now-newly-remodeled restaurant where he works).

I've been replacing my vacuum and other minor appliances and contributing my old ones to the cause. (Okay, I hear the chuckles, yes I actually think he may, at some point, vacuum. It's my fantasy, just let it be.)

The hardest part of all this was not the actual move, but the fact it's taking my son one step further from his childhood. On the one hand, I'm happy for him, starting out on his latest adventure -- and, I'm certain, learning experience. On the other hand, there's a part of me that misses things like story time and hot chocolate and being smarter than he is.

I know I'm not going through anything most parents of children his age are going through. And yes, I know I sound like an old fogey. (See? I just used the phrase "old fogey!")

I'm glad that he's movin' on up. And I really hope that he gets a (big) piece of the pie!