Letter Of The WeeQ

our winner this week has nothing to do with politics. it's winning attributes include the ability to make the reader feel good. try it:

Today I dropped my daughter off at college.

Her mom, younger brother Jacob and I drove her up to Ames in our pickup, piled high with all of the things she felt were necessary for freshman year. Emily was convinced that the contents of the pickup screamed "Going to college," and that thought was confirmed when, stopped in traffic, she saw another motorist look at us and mouth those very words.

We had one last run together this morning. I chose our route around town rather than the one that takes us out into the countryside. Our route took us past the softball fields where I reminded her of that night game 11 years ago when, standing in left field and daydreaming, a bird swooped down at her, coming from the general direction of home plate, and she instinctively put up her glove in an attempt to catch it.

We ran past the high school track, swung in and made a final lap on the oval where she has made so many, the morning walkers unaware of the emotions playing out in our hearts.

A couple of blocks down the street her middle school teacher and coach, Mr. Shy, was up on his roof tearing off old shingles. "Hi, coach" Emily yelled. "Hey, when's the big day?" he hollered back. "I go up today." "Well, good luck!"

We never did talk much on our runs, and this morning we spoke even less, our thoughts on other things.

In my job as a forester I mark the passing of the years by watching the trees that I have planted and cared for grow up. It, too, is a labor of love, but I never have to say goodbye to the trees. They are always in the same place I planted them, and, with the exception of a few bugs and the normal onslaught from deer, I don't worry about their safety.

You have your children, if you are fortunate, for 18 years. In that incredibly short time span, you do the best you can to be a good parent, instill in them the values you hope are never compromised, and send them on their way. You get one chance at it; one chance to make it to their band concerts and track meets, to teach them to include everyone and to convince them that despite all your lessons, they should question everything.

When it was time for us to leave, Emily walked us down to the truck. We hugged, Jacob gave her the note that he had written and I slipped her $20, just like my dad used to do to me.

Tomorrow I will spend the day in the woods, working alone. It won't be the most productive day I have ever had, as I will be stopping frequently to rest on a fallen log or along a creek as I ponder this life. I know that Emily will make wonderful friends, enjoy beautiful experiences and discover many things about herself and this world as she receives her education. But right now I really miss her.

-Bob Petrzelka, Mount Pleasant.

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