Are We There Yet?
He's home in body, but not in spirit
LORI CLINCH
Vernon, our eldest son, came home from college this past weekend. Sadly enough, Vernon is not much for phone calls or any other form of familial communications. Simply put, the kid doesn't call his mother. Still, I knew he was coming, because the mother of a friend had visited with another mother who told my friend and she told me that Vernon had planned to be homebound no later than Friday afternoon at 3:30.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.

We were giddy with anticipation.

He blew in at or around 6:30 and we rolled out the red carpet. "Vernon's home!" the boys screeched as they saw him from a distance. Balloons and banners waved in the air, the dog was ecstatic and kids came running and chased the car as he pulled up the driveway. It was as if the whole world was shouting, "Hey look, Vernon is really here!"

Although he wasn't wearing dark sunglasses, signing autographs or fighting off the paparazzi, Vernon looked like a celebrity pulling up to the curb for the Emmys. Excitement filled the air. He smiled at his brothers, shook his father's hand and presented me with a smelly bag of dirty laundry.

It was reminiscent of a hero's welcome.

We had questions to ask, thoughts to share, and we truly couldn't wait to listen to every detail. We were overjoyed with the 10 minutes Vernon had carved out for us before he ran out the door to meet friends for dinner.

Although we never saw him again that evening, we knew that Vernon must have come home at some point during the night because food was left out on the kitchen counter, his ceiling fan had been left running, and his closet light was burning brightly.

We gathered that Vernon enjoyed a day of watching college football on Saturday because one of his friends told my niece that he was at her house and, since she communicates with her mother, she told my sister and she phoned to report that Vernon was indeed alive and well in his hometown.

Vernon actually showed up at his home on Saturday evening, and we can only assume that he had a lovely time. At least that's what we concluded as 30 or more of his closest friends came and went from our house. It was lovely to hear all of the accounts of Vernon's life as they passed through. "It's so good to know that college is treating Vernon well, Mrs. Clinch," and, "Vernon says the food on campus is stellar," not to mention, "Isn't Vernon's impersonation of his French instructor just hilarious?"

Which led us to ask ourselves many questions up to and including, "Is Vernon taking French?"

He must have slept well Saturday night, because he looked quite rejuvenated when he showed up at Mass on Sunday morning. I didn't know that he was in attendance, you understand, but my friend Trixie reported that college was suiting him well, since he had a peaceful look and was sporting a healthy glow.

On Sunday afternoon he visited his aunt, his grandmother and the families of all his friends. He changed his uncle's oil, fixed his grandfather's headlight and then called up his good buddy, Baxter, to see if he had time to play video games.

He did come home in time for supper, and if you don't count the text messaging and the incessant phone calls, we made memories at our family meal that we're sure to treasure for a lifetime.

Vernon is still in town … somewhere. When last I saw him, he was sporting a jacket that I'd never seen and was heading off to spend some more quality time with Baxter.

"Doesn't Baxter go to the same college as you do?" asked his Dad.

"Yeah," replied Vernon, "but we're so busy that we hardly ever get to see each other."

I'm sure it made sense to him at the time.

When at last it comes time for Vernon to go, I'm sure the boys will pack his clean laundry back into the car and give him hugs, jabs, pokes and smiles. As Vernon drives off into the sunset, I'll bet they call behind him, "Goodbye, Vernon, we'll see you next time."

Near as I know, "next time" will be at or around Thanksgiving.

I can only hope the mother of a friend of his will visit with another mother who will have told her son who will in turn be kind enough to tell me when to expect him.