A seminarian’s first week. . .
My oldest son Timothy, entered St. Charles Borromeo Seminary this past week. I drove him there, helped him get his stuff up three flights of stairs to his room (all the while trying not to look too overtaxed as I huffed and puffed up the last set of stairs!) and made his bed for him (hey, I’m his mom–it’s what I do). Then, after a beautiful mass, a Philadelphia style lunch (Italian hoagies, chips, soda and soft pretzels) and various orientation talks, it was time for me to head home and leave him there. It was difficult but only because I knew I would miss him. He was so clearly happy to be there that I couldn’t help feeling a tremendous sense of peace as I drove away and watched him striding across campus to evening prayer. And I do miss him, even though I have talked to him everyday since I left him there.So tonight he calls and tells me that he broke his left wrist today while playing basketball! He broke both the ulna and radius so he’s in a good bit of pain but assures me he is fine. Now I actually do have something to worry about. But he was quick to tell me that he now has the singular distinction of being the first seminarian to get hurt this school year. Oh and apparently he was also the first to pull off a successful prank; he snuck into an adjacent dorm last night and shuffled the names cards on all the doors of the 2nd year seminarians.
Yeah, that’s my boy! 
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