Across the Atlantic

Katherine, Andrew and Margaret at
Mount Pleasant High School as Andrew, Margaret and 21 other travelers leave for Germany and France.

As I write this, Andrew's plane is approaching the coast of Europe. He's 6 miles above the Atlantic, eating up a mile every six seconds. He'll be on the ground in a couple of hours.
We were up at 3:30 in the morning. The school bus for Detroit Metro left at 5:45. I have never seen Andrew so geeked for anything. The predawn darkness was windy and cold, but he was more ready for this than for anything. He had seen this moment in his mind's eye for months, and he had to be ready for this. It wasn't an adventure. it was a passage.




His flight to Atlanta went off without a hitch; he collected $20 from a cash machine at the airport, and boarded Delta Flight 130 with no apparent problems. The plane left on time.
He'll be dragged out when he lands in a couple of hours, but it's only just the beginning.
Munich, the solemnity of Dachau, the incredible ski resorts of the Alps, the glory that is Paris.
It's his.
I fell in love with Europe. His sister fell in love with the place, as well.
Sending two kids to Europe in less than a year has been a stretch, but for them to know there is more than the lakes and the dirt roads, that they can have the world, is more than worth it.