So on Saturday, we got up and drove to drop Dom off at college. He will major in business and play baseball at Indiana State — hopefully in that order. For the people who say it’s easier on the second or third child, they are dead wrong.
It was just as miserable for me with each of the three drop-offs, and I dreaded looking at the calendar, too. I didn’t want it to get closer to August 18. I hate August 18th. It was kind of like when you are kid having a great summer and you know the day when school starts, and you want no part of it. You hate that day.
So we drove and we drove!
Look, I know he wasn’t going to war. I also knew that because of his mother, Monique, he’s ready to go. But none of that makes it any easier. How is an 18-year dynamic supposed to change in a three-hour drive to college?
It’s never quite the same.
I can’t have dinner with him now, I can’t drive 15 minutes to watch him play a game. I coached him in 500 basketball games over the years and loved every second of it.
This year I just couldn’t miss any of his games. One night, he had a basketball game go to overtime in Washington. It was 8:45, and I had to do the 10 p.m. sports, but I just couldn't leave. It was the closest I ever come to missing slot. I don’t recommend it, but I couldn’t help it.
So we drove and we drove!
I am going to miss all the little things, too. The Fantasy Football conversation at Lester’s. Every Sunday at noon, we were there eating lemon pepper garlic wings — the best in St. Louis — just watching football and pounding down wings. It just won't be the same this season.
I am going to miss the Midnight snacks, too. Dom is a minimalist. He has asked for nothing, except for food. And he asked for lots of food. Often times Chef Don at Kemolls would prepare a nice dish for Dom. It would be 11:30 at night and he would be woofing down some Chicken Marsala and telling me how practice went that day.
So we drove and we drove!
When we finally arrived, I snuck a little booklet under his pillow when he wasn’t looking. It was my guide to living. If he didn’t get it the first 18 years of his life, I was going to make him read it. It was my thoughts on how to treat a woman, how to deal with coaches and teachers and how to try and put the Lord first in his life. I wish I practiced what I wrote more often.
Dom walked us to the car, and I had a flashback from eight years ago when we dropped off Alex at Loyola-Chicago. I wore sunglasses in the room because I didn’t want Dom seeing me get emotional. I asked him to leave the room at the end. He declined. I said will you leave if I give you two dollars, and he agreed.
I am not a hugger, but I couldn’t let go of him. I really couldn’t.
I went to his room when we got home and looked all of those pictures of him on the wall and couldn’t believe how quickly time had elapsed. It felt like just yesterday we were watching him play 3 or 4 games on a Saturday. Then, at night, Monique and I would go out, and he would order an Imos Pizza.
By the time we would get home, he would be dead asleep in our bed, television blasting and pizza box on the floor. He was in his boxers out like a light.
I loved those days.
It will feel weird not to text him at 11:00 and find out when he’s coming home. It'll feel strange to walk into the kitchen in the morning and not see him eating breakfast. It just doesn’t feel right to pull up the driveway and not see his car.
Again, I know everything is good and this is the right thing, a young man going to college and playing baseball. It’s just sad in so many ways. I know a lot of parents who feel the same way.
I am a mediocre father, but it wasn’t because of a lack of trying. I absolutely love my job at KSDK and have for 25 years, but I loved being Dominic Cusumano’s father a whole lot more!
