Letting Him Go

The promised Across the Pond sequel…

We’re in Auburn, New York. I’ll be flying home tomorrow (or today GMT).

A few days ago I didn’t know what to expect. Not from the place. From him.

Loic’s settled in fast. New team, new town, new friends, and he’s taken to all of it no problem. Embracing it.

I’m writing this from a traditional bar called Curley’s off North Street, whilst he’s on a 5K run to a lake!

Leaving him here feels easier than it did when we flew out. Not because I feel it any less. But because I can see he’s exactly where he should be.

The college feels right for him. Small enough that he’s not just a number, big enough that he’s being pushed. That balance matters.

The training ground is where he looks most at home. Of course. You can see it in how he carries himself out there. Like he’s not trying to prove he belongs, he just does.

He’s getting used to the area quicker than I expected too. The pace of it, the people, the way things work here. It’s different to what he’s known, and he’s not fighting that. He’s just getting on with it.

Auburn’s helped. There’s a warmth to this place. People are off-the-charts-friendly, proud of where they’re from, and it shows (New England houses festooned with flags.) That’s a good influence on a young lad finding his way.

I’m proud of him.

What I’m not looking forward to is going home alone. Not leaving him - I’ve made my peace with that. It’s the bit after. That flight! The house without him in it. And a reduced electricity bill feels scant solace.

But that’s the trade, I suppose. You raise them to leave, and then you feel it when they do.

Hard to know how to end this piece. So I’ll leave it there. Plus my buffalo wings have just arrived.