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How Way Leads on to Way


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I have been doing a lot of discussing of choices and decisions and futures with my second born, my almost 17 year old son [2]. The fact that he will soon be a man, whether he is ready or not, is becoming more and more evident as the days pass.

He knows that he will soon decide the direction for his future, whether it will be a college degree, learning a trade, or becoming an entrepreneur.

So, when he and I were in the van all alone recently and I was helping him memorize Robert Frosts' "The Road Not Taken", I was almost certain I could hear the whizzing hands of a cartoon clock moving at 200 times its normal speed.

Where has the time gone? How has this little boy who wouldn't stay in his crib grown up so fast? What will his future hold?

I don't know the answers, but I get the distinct impression that I am a privileged onlooker in this moment. And I doubt that I should ever come back.


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.