Someone posted recently on one of the (many) Air Force Academy parent pages that we were 200 days from the Class of 2025’s graduation/commissioning and just 100 days from learning initial base assignments.
The wheels never stop turning.
As I read that post, I was riding the high of being with both kids for the first time since March. Jammed in between those two meetings – my son’s third deployment aboard the USS Florida, my final summer adventure with my daughter, the beginning of her final academic year, and life in general.
Their birthdays are close together, close enough that we could use this weekend to celebrate both of them. The logistics for these sorts of things are always tricky and this one was no exception with the new AFA superintendent enacting a wide array of restrictions on the cadets and, of course, the never-ending uncertainty of a submarine officer actually begin awarded leave (the latter happening only about a week before the actual trip).
As I sat in the airport lounge sipping coffee before my flight, I finally allowed myself to think beyond the basic travel plans, past making sure the AirBnB was secured and locating the nearest supermarket, past confirming the rental car information and the time of both my flight and my son’s flight. There would be many stops on the Parade of Lasts, but this one carried more weight than many.
Yes, this would be my last visit to the Academy in the Fall and my last AFA football game with Cate as a cadet. But more importantly, this would most likely be the last time all three of us would be together until graduation in May (that is, assuming the folks at my son’s new command award him leave and that is certainly no guarantee).
Now, I’m not big on events. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll soak in the whole graduation and commissioning thing (especially since COVID-19 deprived us of that joy for Noah’s big day at the Naval Academy), but large gatherings, especially formal ones, sit outside my comfort zone. For me, moments mean the most. It’s really the little things.
Once Noah completed his travel plans, I changed my flight so we could arrive in Denver at the same time. As it turns out, I arrived just 5 minutes before he did and just two gates down the concourse. All of this allowed us time to grab lunch and make time for a hike in Castlewood Canyon. Nothing earth-shattering occurred, just the two of us winding our way along the trail, catching up on things mundane and significant. We stopped a couple of times along the way – the altitude always gets me on the first day – taking a few photos and soaking up the scenery. It made for a few treasured moments.
Once we collected Cate, we made our way to a local bar for dinner then for some beach volleyball – note to self, having more experience does not make up for being at least 30 years older than the rest of the participants in such an event. I couldn’t pick out anything extraordinary from the evening, but again, I treasured those moments.
Game day was unlike any I’ve had at either academy. Traffic turned our 20-minute ride to the stadium into a 2 hour, 30-minute adventure. The game had started by the time we arrived and we had just a few moments with Cate before she packed up her squadron’s tailgate and headed back to her dorm while Noah and I strolled into the stadium to watch Navy and Air Force.
That evening, given the choice between going out and cooking dinner, the kids agreed that relaxing over dinner at the AirBnB sounded like the best option. So much like we did when they were (much) younger, we went to the supermarket with each one of us charged with collecting a portion of the shopping list. We chatted while I cooked and while I couldn’t tell you what we actually talked about, the feelings have me smiling.
Now the last couple of times we’ve been together, Noah hooked up his laptop to a smart TV and we played a ridiculous game called Party Animals, usually resulting in a great deal of laughter. But this AirBnB had a special feature – an old school pinball machine and both kids said they wanted to give it a try. And that’s how we spent the entire evening – like teenagers with a pocket full of quarters circa 1979. None of us actually mastered the game but we each had our moments, and we laughed, sometimes at ourselves, sometimes at each other, and we made some real moments.
The next day came too soon and before I knew it, we outside the black gates that would separate us. We watched Cate trundle up the hill and out of sight, then headed back to the airport. Noah and I would share one last meal there before heading our separate ways to get to our planes.
After boarding, I found myself staring straight ahead, lost in my own thoughts. Like many stops on the Parade of Lasts, this one reminded me how fleeting time is and that so much would change in the near future and while there’s excitement about what’s next, there’s a bit of melancholy over what will be left behind. Yet, I found myself smiling, basking in the glow of those fleeting moments.
And the Parade of Lasts moves on.
My Kid The Cadet 