'Good morning, buddy and a happy 18th birthday'

“Good morning, buddy!”

That’s how I have started nearly every morning for the past 18 years.

For the first  few years of my son’s life, Austin slept next to Marlisa and me. The good morning ritual at that point was more about me waking up and staring at this child and counting our blessings that we had a healthy and happy child.

Sometimes he would catch me and giggle or just let loose with a big grin. “Good morning, buddy.”

After awhile, as he became all legs and arms, I would track him down on the couch or his room and give him an energetic “good morning, buddy.” He would almost always respond with: “Hey, Dad.”

I read somewhere that a parent’s job is to start a child’s day with a smile on your face being the first thing they see. I took that as a personal challenge.

As he continued to grow and the teen years appeared out of nowhere, his arms and legs would hang over his bed in the morning.

If I knew he was tired, I would find myself in his room in the morning staring and taking a moment or two to take inventory of this wonderful man in the making. Of course, there were sometimes his room was such a mess that it would take me awhile to find him under a layer of clothes and blankets.

More than once, I found myself talking to the south side of the bed, when all of the sudden his head would pop up from the northside.

I still just wonder how it was that this kid who barely fit into a car seat became a 6-1 hulk of a man … and is still growing.

 Today is my son Austin’s 18th birthday. It’s the first time of those 18 birthdays I haven’t been able to walk into his room with a “good morning, buddy.”

I am sure I miss the break in tradition more than him.

Through most of those years I have been lucky enough to share some of our experiences together in this column. It seems like just yesterday he was stepping through the ceiling at our house, or laying waste to our living room by kicking all sorts of balls every which way. Who could forget power vomiting in the 4Runner or the living room?

People ask what you miss when a child moves away. I miss, in no particular order:

n The thumpa-thumpa noise coming from his pickup as he pulled into our driveway.

n Seeing a reflection of a man instead of a boy in a mirror when he walked up behind me.

n The way he hugged his mom, sister and just about everybody he knows and trusts.

n His respect for his grandparents.

n The Bermuda Triangle that used to exist in our refrigerator. Food items would be put in there but would disappear within minutes. He didn’t need cereal bowls — he would just pour milk straight into the box of Honeynut Cheerios.

n How he would seem to find a few spare minutes around lunch time, would call, stop by or text to suggest a Joel’s lunch.

This morning when he wakes up he will be in Mount Vernon, Wash., beginning his second week at Skagit Valley College. Even though classes don’t start for a month, soccer practice started last week.

Facebook, Facetime, email, phone calls and other technology keep us closer as a family than in any generation in history.

Still, nothing could have prepared us for the void that is left. I wouldn’t even mind a wet towel left on the floor in the bathroom or a plate that isn’t rinsed off going into the dishwasher.

I promised I wouldn’t go into his room for awhile after he left — even though his sister has already told Austin she is painting his room pink.

His room is home to few dozen soccer medals and trophies in places of honor. There are still piles of clothes and something or other ground into the carpet.

The bed is empty and the room is cleaner longer than it ever has been.

We have all grown a lot in 18 years. Austin has become a fine young man who his going to make an impact on those around him. I have gotten wiser and a bit grayer. Marlisa has gotten more beautiful and Olivia is the best sister and daughter in the world — although I don’t think she fully appreciates all of the extra attention her parents are giving her these days.

Every family goes through it and some how we all survive when our children leave. Doesn’t make it any easier.

Good morning, buddy and happy birthday!

Here’s hoping that your 18th year is your best so far and that you make the most of every opportunity that pops up.

All the best!

David Keyes is the publisher of the Bonner County Daily Bee.