Two Of Us

Somehow -- in the blink of an eye -- my son turned 16.

Yes, Sean is of driving age (here in New York) as of this morning.

I've written countless words about him, and I continue to be impressed and proud as he grows up. No matter the flub or triumph, he has stayed grounded. I only hope it continues into a wonderful adulthood.

Not that I'm in any rush.

*****

Let's go back in time. It was 2007, and I had just taken a new job in White Plains (it lasted six weeks. Longer story).

Before the job, I decided to spend a day getting away with Sean. Just father/son time. We were -- of all things -- going to go to Middletown, NY where there was a Krispy Kreme shop.

Yes, we've always had this unique bond for such silliness. He wanted a donut, and to watch them get made. We'd pal around and head back home.

We got to Middletown, and I prepared to turn off Route 211 into the side road that would lead to the parking lot.

"Where is the Krispy Kreme," I thought.

Uh oh. It was gone. Out of business.

Cue the tears. A flood, to be exact.

My mind raced. OK, we'll go to the nearby mall and walk around. I think there's a Dunkin Donuts there.

Sure enough, after finding a donut (and coffee for me), we resumed our day, but the wound remained.

On the way home, we listened to the Let It Be (Naked) album by The Beatles that stripped off all of Phil Spector's production efforts.

Among the songs on this occasionally-maligned (by Beatles standards) album is "Two of Us." While it comes off playfully as a Lennon and McCartney tune, it's actually a Paul ode to his Linda about their travels together.

Still, as I heard the lyrics, I found myself thinking about my travels with Sean.

Two of us riding nowhere
Spending someone's
Hard earned pay
Two of us Sunday driving
Not arriving
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

And so on.

The song became an important bond with me for Sean, a la Cats in the Cradle, I suppose. As life would change through the balance of 2007-2009, the importance of the song would deepen for me.

One morning, I caught the movie I Am Sam, which features Sean Penn as a man with a disability, fighting for custody of his daughter. The movie uses a collection of Beatles tunes performed by different artists.

Enter "Two of Us."

If you know where I was in that stretch of my life, you can understand my emotions.

Flash forward several years to lunch with a friend. With the jukebox playing, we chatted about whatever it is we were chatting about.

Enter "Two of Us." Again.

I couldn't speak. Tried to nod. I felt awful for the raw emotions that poured from me.

Not every listen to the song makes me feel like that.

Something tells me when I listen to it today, I'll need a minute to myself.

This kid -- boy, man, guy, dude, "bruh" -- has been one my true constant since February 23, 2002.

You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead.

*****

I apologize if this comes off as "being about me," but it truly isn't. It's about a bond, and an admiration for a son from his dad.

We've walked too many highways together. We've hashed out a lot of life. He's dealt with "big boy" things that he often shouldn't have to, but so was -- and is -- the very nature of our relationship.

I love watching him evolve. I hope you will also.

Everyone says they have "the best kid." I don't worry about that.

I have the best kid.

For me.