For the last three days, the haunting melody of the Beatles’ “She’s Leaving Home” has tormented my brain.

Now that I read through the lyrics, though, I realize very little applies.

Our youngest isn’t running away. James is heading into his new life. Adult life.

About an hour ago, Gary and I waved from our front porch (a lovely tradition from Mom’s aunt and uncle May and Pip) as James pulled out of the driveway with the last load of musical instruments, books, clothes, and one massive computer.

He’s leaving home (bye-bye)

James accepted a great position at the engineering firm where he interned last summer. It’s only a state away. About 3.5 hours by car. With plenty of bookstores along the way, Gary and I can stop and stretch our legs (and spend a bit of our pension) when we visit.

Before James headed out, Gary disappeared for a bit. When he returned to the living room where James and I were talking, he had something in his hand. Two coins.

Gary told us this story: When I was about seven years old, my Grandpa Mehling gave me four coins on the day I made my First Communion. I thought they were quarters, but later learned they were half dollars. Two dollars was a pretty amazing gift back in 1962.

As an aside: This gift was impressive, as Gary has 46 first cousins on his mother’s side (four others made their First Communion that same year). That’s a lot of half dollars!

Continuing: Grandpa Mehling didn’t say much, just held out his hand and dropped the coins into my mine. I’ve kept them all these years until I gave one coin each to Tom and John when they moved out. And now I give one to you.

Another aside: Gary likes to tell the rather shocking story of a local businessman stating (back in the 1970s) proudly that, “When my kids turned 18 and finished high school, I gave ’em each $20 and a kick in the ass!” Thankfully, Gary’s sendoff was far more gentle.

The second coin Gary handed to James was from 1967. It’s a Kennedy Half Dollar. Gary’s paternal great-aunt Christine (who lived with her brother Leo, the relative with the plum trees, for a few years) gave him four of those shiny coins in 1967, just a few years after minting began.

Earlier in the week, James and I spent a nice day together in Evansville. Sort of a not-back-to-school shopping expedition. Come to think of it, this is the first summer not to head out with a back-to-school list in 32 years.

Oh, James. Your grand adventure is underway. And we know you’ll soar.

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