Yup. Every time I knock on his door, there's a different configuration of young men sitting there. Everyone's happy that the boy/man is home for a visit, including himself. Not that it was an easy journey. After a non-stop flight from Frankfurt am Main, he arrived at San Francisco International at what would have been 2 a.m. Heidelberg time. Sailed through Customs. Hugged me for a full minute when he walked out of the arrival gate. Then we sailed out of the terminal, thinking we'd get home in half an hour or less. Think again.
Just as we passed Candlestick (or Three-Com, as it's known now) we noticed the field lights were on. "Looks like the Forty-Niners are having a game..." he said. Had a game. That ended just before we passed the stadium. A sea of brake lights gleamed red in front of us. Traffic. Slowed. To. A. Crawl. And sometimes stopped altogether. This drove the boy/man temporarily insane. To be so close to home and then have to sit in traffic after that long flight. Eva and I tried to joke him out of it but it was really hard - especially since he was so tired.
At a speed of less than ten miles an hour we finally reached the Bay Bridge more than an hour later. Then the traffic speeded up. To twenty mph. But as we came off the bridge, our speed was finally a comfortable fifty mph. And finally we were HOME AT LAST about two hours after we left the airport. Where a lovely dinner, prepared by Ron, was waiting. And Eva helped me carry in his (very heavy) suitcase.
So now we have boys in the house. That might turn out to be my favorite Christmas present.