So Long, Farewell ...

 This past Monday I took two of these guys to college. (Hint: It wasn't the one with gray hair.) Our boys are so fun and full of life that it makes it doubly hard to see them go. Even with two of them still living at home, things seem too quiet.

Over the course of the years I've taken five different children off to college. It doesn't get any easier. I've had random bouts of crying for the week before they went off to school. I've had panic rear its ugly head as I tried to help them get together the things they need for college. I've had the occasional words of wisdom that I tried to pass on as they take this step into adulthood. I'm always worried that they're not quite ready or I've forgotten to teach them some much-needed life lesson.

All of my children have endured this odyssey as I struggle with them going off to college. And in their own sweet way they try to help make this transition easier for me. They do things such as:

1. Smash up the front of the car that I loaned them. (Matt)

2. Walk from their job to the college, thirty miles in subzero temperatures until a police car picked them up. (Luke)

3. Call me to moan that they were sure they were definitely failing every class--all while actually getting A's. (Stephanie)

4. Accidentally setting off the emergency system on their phone so that everyone in the family got texts asking for help. (Paul)

Ok that last one needs to be explained, I'm sure.

Last year Paul was at college six hours away. In addition to college, he also worked in a factory there in town, usually second shift. One evening our family was watching television when suddenly, one by one, we started getting texts from Paul. The texts went like this:

"Help me. Please. I'm at latitude 00 and longitude 00."

Now what parent would not panic at that message? Especially when we tried calling back, but he didn't answer. Or rather, the phone would pick up but then all we heard were distant sounds. No voices. No Paul.

Our family is cursed blessed with wild imaginations. I thought the sounds on his phone sounded like he was in the trunk of a car. Luke and Stephanie thought it sounded like water--as in maybe he was drowning? Terry thought it sounded like a fire. Whatever it was, it wasn't Paul's voice, and it wasn't good.

Putting our imaginations and terrors aside, we went into action. I paced the living room while calling the police in Lexington, Kentucky. Terry paced in the kitchen while calling the college and any/all faculty and staff that he had numbers for. Luke paced in the dining room while repeatedly calling Paul's phone. When it picked up, he said things like, "Paul, can you hear me? If you can't speak, but you can hear me, cough. We're coming for you, Bud. Hang on!" Stephanie called a couple of prayer warriors and then gathered her remaining brothers to head to the basement and pray.

What we learned later:

*The Vice President of the college went to Paul's dorm room. Paul's roommate informed him that Paul was at work, and the Vice President found out that Paul had not filled out the notices needed to inform the college of his whereabouts since his work hours had just changed. (Paul got demerits for that the next day.)

*A staff member headed to the place where Paul worked to find him.

*When the staff member got to the factory, he saw several squad cars already there with lights flashing. The police were there looking for Paul as well.

What they found was Paul working hard, with his phone in his pocket. Apparently there was an emergency feature on there so that if certain buttons were pushed in a certain order, the phone would automatically send a help text to his emergency contacts (his entire family). Paul's jeans hadn't dried completely in the laundry and the moisture and his movements had apparently set off the emergency contacts.

Paul had no idea his phone had done anything at all, and the factory is noisy, so Paul never heard our frantic phone calls. The sounds we heard were the sounds of the factory. Which is in no way similar to the sounds of a car trunk, a fire or a river.

The police called us as soon as they had physically seen him, and assured us that they would have him call personal as soon as they finished talking to him. Apparently they wanted to make sure Paul wasn't pranking his family (what awful person would do that?!?), but they were convinced when the college staff member vouched for him and when Paul's phone randomly sent out another "help me" text while the police officer was holding it.

Things we've learned:

1. Our family is amazing when it comes to springing into action.

2. We got Paul a new phone.

3. We were very happy with the speed and lengths that both the college and the police took to ensure Paul's safety.

4. Paul needs to spend the extra quarter or two to make sure his clothes are completely dry.

5. Don't mess with Boyds.

6. We should have known that Paul wasn't sending the texts because he'd have no idea of latitude and longitude.

7. Once the adrenalin died down, we were all exhausted.

8. Tense cop drama TV shows don't go well with sudden emergency texts.

9. Your mom will always think the worst if she doesn't hear from you on a regular basis.

10. When you're in the Boyd family, it's a good idea to keep lots of boxes of hair color on hand for all the grays your children cause.

So now Joel is at college for the first time. Wanna make bets on how long it'll be before I have another story to tell?