The Boy in Blue

Years ago, before I was married, maybe even while I was still in high school, I looked out my living room window and saw a boy in a royal blue winter jacket.  He was walking down the street with his back toward me, but I could tell he was young – probably five years old, maybe six.  My heart was drawn to him somehow and I thought, “Someday I will have a happy little boy, and he will wear a blue jacket, too.”  I’ve thought of this little-boy-in-blue declaration countless times since then.

When our son, Nick, was at the age when I might have recreated the image, he was adamantly against wearing blue.  With Uncles who attended NC State, and a Dad who cheers for the Carolina Hurricanes, there was no buying anything but red or black or gray for several years.  Of course, this was okay by me.

Just last week, Rob and I passed a young boy in a blue jacket on his way to the bus stop.  As it is late spring, it wasn’t the same style jacket, but it was the same shade of blue. The memory of the boy from long ago came on strong and I shed tears of gratitude that Nick has grown through all the stages of life so far with his broad grin, happy heart, and hearty laugh intact.

And yesterday.  Yesterday, our little-boy-turned-man donned a royal blue jacket (of sorts) and turned his tassel. Yes, indeed.  God is good.