Hard to believe, but the day is finally here. Two years ago when my son Evan was accepted into the Philadelphia Boys Choir as a cadet, we knew each summer the choir traveled to some amazing destinations. Just in the past few years they’ve gone to China, the Baltic states, the Grand Canyon; they’ve sung for Pavarotti, Julie Andrews, presidents and prime ministers; they’ve had experiences that will last a lifetime. We couldn’t wait until he had his opportunity.
Two years went FAST, man. We’re spending the day packing his suitcase, then tomorrow dropping him off in Philly to board the bus for JFK airport. From there he flies to Paris via Reykjavik, and will visit the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, take a boat cruise on the Seine, visit Normandy Beach, and sing in such places as the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Literally unbelievable, I’m still coming to grasps with it. Yes, THAT Paris. In France. Europe, even.
Am I nervous? No – Evan’s got more stamps in his passport than most US adults, I’d venture to say. One of the benefits to being in the travel industry; my kids are very experienced travelers. I’m sure Evan will be giving advice on how to pass through airport security properly, how to board the plane, and where to find the restrooms in foreign airports to the other kids. Crowded airports, long lines, rude & harried travelers – nothing will faze him.
I’m a bit anxious at not flying with him, I’ll admit. That’s a very rare occurrence. Not that I’m superhuman and can shield/protect/save him if something goes wrong, but it’s a father’s inherent job; my mission in life, as it were.
Here’s a shot of him as a cadet, borrowing the famed red blazer for a performance when he was allowed to sing with the full choir.
Now he has his own blazer. His own singing career, so to speak. And his own trip to Paris.
I’m jealous. I’m excited. I’m thrilled. But most of all…you guessed it…I’m proud.