Watching your children become young adults and head out into the world pulls at your heartstrings in a way I never imagined. My heart tells me it was just yesterday that I was stroking the downy newborn hair of this sweet baby boy. The weight of him in my arms so small and yet alarmingly heavy at the same time…… like holding a tiny acorn and feeling the weight of the mighty oak in your hands. Some part of what our children will become seems be felt in a parent's heart in some capacity. It's a beautiful and humbling journey for sure.
We know the day will come. We can stuff the thought under the the never ending pile of laundry in the corner…… but the day will arrive just the same. Sooner or later it will be here.
I knew the coming of fall would bring the time for us to help a certain young man pack his bags & head out. To begin a dream realized…. to start his story. Even though every ounce of my soul is excited for him…. there is this wee little other part.
The part that can best be described as that feeling you have when that two wheeled bike leaves your hands for the first time and you watch them peddle off…… all by themselves. There they go. Only this time it's bigger than that. This time it means a brand new quilt and a set of sheets, his own towels & cell phone and the biggest laundry basket I could find. ('cause I know how often teenagers do laundry)
Tomorrow morning we'll load up the car and drive north to drop him off. His sophmore year will be spent at a statewide magnet school. An amazing opportunity for this bright young person. A public boarding school that is a three and a half hour drive from home. And about a zillion miles from this mama's heart.
There are letters, care packages, phone calls, emails and even the tech savvy skype these days. He'll be home for holidays and one long weekend each month…. but this mama is learning a great big lesson in the art of letting go. And yet, when the worry sets heavy in my heart, I think of my own mama….. who has watched me start a life and a family always miles away from where I started. Who never sees her grandchildren nearly as often as she (or we) would like and still manages to keep in touch with them and nourish these amazing beautiful relationships….. and I take a deep breath and think to myself, I can do this. We can do this.
Fly my boy. Fly.