kin-dling

Spring on St. Thomas has its own version of burgeoning, though subtle. With the winds settling down, the smell of sage mingles with salt and oleander. The flamboyant trees are starting to bloom their majestic red blossoms once again, the sun now sets over the Brass Islands, and the ocean has found a calm reminiscent of a lake in summer with water the color of coal in early morning. With these slight changes, I am reminded of my own subtle energies. Having recently returned to The Rock after a bustling trip to LA with the family, my circadian rhythm seeks grounding and a bit of restoration. After visiting college campuses, seeing old friends and witnessing new landscapes, along with a hodgepodge of accelerated parenting thrown into the mix as our family of five re-acclimated to being a unit again, I find myself in between amazement and woe.

Thank goodness St. Sunshine has become a cradle where I can rock myself back into my body. The rolling motion of words that fall from my fingers and onto the keyboard invite a going inward where I visit the crags and soft spots that were ignored as I tended, organized and bustled along with the kids and hubby. Sunshine, city, citrus, desert, cactus, mountains, culture, trees! The pace was faster than St. Thomas, but slower than the one we left behind in Connecticut. Hugh dreamed up his next chapter as we walked the quads of stunning, happy universities. Elsa was able to get her head out of Wallingford as she threw the softball with Dave in the park. And as for Harry, a seed found rooting for the life he misses but appreciates (maybe) more- he sparkled as he walked through the campuses and took in their purpose.

Dave and I reminisced on our young love as we dropped Hugh at his girlfriend's house in Echo Park, the similarities make us smile; obviously, she goes to Choate, she's a year younger than Hugh, and she's the one who asked him out. (I digress, Hugh would get upset with me if he knew I was writing about his personal life... back to our trip.) In Los Angeles we were able to rekindle old flames as we fanned new ones. We visited my Choate roommate in Pioneer Town, hiking parts of the Yucca Valley and Joshua Tree Park. And we wined and dined at The Wilshire Country Club with college friends and their kids, all the while feeling like teenagers playing grown-ups. Who would have thought that LA would feel so much like home? Well, the good news is in! One happy Holmes will be making the Golden State home for the next four years as of September. This proud mama will be taking Hugh to USC's School of Cinematic Arts come fall, his dream to make movies since age 9 is soon to become a reality.

To say that this news inspired a collective family jaw-drop would be an understatement. Tears, gasps, sobs, squeals, butterflies and "oh-my's"! The "extreme reach" according to his college councilor had us all thinking that Hugh would be lucky to get in to any film school, let alone his top choice and one of the best in the country. But his hard work and passion paid off. His submitted film got into the right hands of the right person and he's now on a path that will take him to places neither he, nor any of us, can fully imagine.

I have often written about the early launching of my teenage children... but there is something about having your oldest get into college, THE COLLEGE, and re-tracing the steps that got him to this point. The friends and family that cheered him on, that watched his YouTube videos, that came to his piano concerts, that let him film them, that bought him video equipment for his birthday even though they didn't know what-the-heck a boom mic was. And while Hugh did 99% of the work to get himself into USC, there is 1% that kindled his fire. The folks who tended his faith, the people he trusted and who convinced him, maybe even silently, that his dream of film school was a worthy one. (I'm a puddle writing this.)

And as I find myself on this summit of joy, there is also a chasm of grief. A quote I heard yesterday in my yoga class seems to be leading me somewhere as I manage this rawness deep inside, a feeling that I wish wasn't there but seems to be lingering just the same. "In each moment there is a choice. We can choose judgement or we can choose compassion." Right now I chose compassion. My tears are allowed. My fears are allowed. This next chapter for Hugh is one that is going to be remarkable, cut-throat (as quoted by the Hollywood Reporter), collaborative, competitive, exhausting, innovative, and just damn intense. Hugh is ready for this challenge. I am just going to have to watch and cheer from afar. (After all, I stoked his pre-teen ambitions when I bought him the director's chair for his 12th birthday.)

My worries of what if's and how to help from so far away are valid and it's friggin' hard to let go. How often will he come home? How often can we go to LA? The summer vacations and what they will look like with internships, the driving, the roommates, the drugs, the all nighters, the stupid shit that doesn't seem stupid at the time, the questioning of humanity and the trust in humanity. I believe Dave and I did our best to prepare Hugh for the path vs. prepare the path for Hugh. And, I have to remember that I do know how to trust. As humbling as it is to see Hugh's runway light up, guiding him somewhere that takes his breath away, both in beauty and in angst, I am excited for the ride. He knows what he's doing. He knows how to get there.

With love and tears,

St. Sunshine