6S
My oldest son is goin g off to college this fall and I am more than the typica l anxious mother; I s pent seven years as a cadaver dog han dler, recovering stud ent bodies from the lakes and rivers that beautify our sta te’s most picturesque college campuses. There are sirens that sing from the dark and de ep, I tell him as if he is a child of five and I am recounting an old familiar bedti me story, and they will beckon you away from your friends at the bar, the house party, or the p ark and lure you alon e to a watery grave. He listens to my cautionary tale w ith barely contained exasperati on. Don’t worr y, he a nswers, placating me as if I am the chil d and he the adult, co nsoling me in my night terrors. Do n’t listen to them, I beg him and begin to cr y. If you hear th e sirens’ call, I will to o.