It’s hard sometimes to think of “the lasts.” The last season she plays high school softball. The last solo he sings as a senior in the high school chorus. The last opening night they stand on the stage…
Bittersweet moments we share with our sons and daughters fly too quickly. We want to hold on for a while, but the days fly by. And when they’re 17 or 18, these dear children of ours seem glad to see them fly. They are already counting down the days until the can pack up their bags and head to college. Speaking from the other side, both of my sons finished high school several years ago, I can say that there are many more beautiful, rich times to come. Lots of firsts will follow the lasts you’re experiencing now!Filed under Letting go | Comment (1)
It’s always been our goal, right? To love our kids, to help them grow, and to launch them into life, equipped and confident, ready to embrace all there is to learn and do? Then why is it so hard to think about them actually leaving home and putting into practice the skills and gifts they’ve developed?
When I face the deep truth of the matter, I realize that the problem is pretty much all mine. My sons were not really afraid to start school. My sons were not looking back over their shoulders with misty eyes. It was me– I was just plain going to miss them. The sound of their laughter, the smell of late night pizza wafting through the house, their footsteps racing for the door. Yes, even their dirty dishes on the counter.
I just have to remind myself… this is what we set out to do. See them fly.Filed under Letting go | Comment (1)
It’s a strange feeling knowing that there are people in my kids lives who have more immediate influence on them than I do. Though my boys didn’t often seek out my advice when they lived at home, I had more of a sense of the things they were thinking through or struggling with and found opportunity to invited myself into their lives.
Now their professors and their peers, their work supervisors and their roommates are the ones who prod them, challenge them, comfort or counsel them. Oh, on occasion we’ll be included on a major decision, but sometimes I feel like I’m the last to know. And actually, I don’t have most of the answers so I’m really thankful for the community at Messiah.Letting go, Picking a major, independence | Comment (0)
My baby is moving to New York City for the spring semester and I have mixed feelings about that.
He’s 21 so I know he’s “all grown up” but he’s lived in a small town his whole life, and suddenly he seems too young to be riding the subway by himself. He’s managed his own finances, pretty successfully for several years, but suddenly I’m worried that he’s not going to have enough money to buy groceries. I haven’t had to wake him for class since early in his high school years, but suddenly I want to hold his hand on the first day of class.
On the other hand, I’m jealous. He’s going to be living in a community of Christian artists in the heart of New York and he’s going to go to museums, have a great studio space, and experience his first internship. He’s going to meet new people and find out that he’s capable of some pretty amazing things.
So when we drive him to Brooklyn Heights in two days, I’m going to be thinking of that day, many years ago. You know, the day I let him go swimming in the creek the first time with his friends and no parents along…
He had a great time, and I was so proud.Filed under Letting go, off campus study | Comment (0)
I look around my son’s room and see the artifacts of his life at home. It’s always a bit of a surprise to see what he chooses to take along with him to campus, and what he chooses to leave behind.
That first semester I had to help him think things through. I doubt he would have bothered with a trash can or a pencil sharpener. A shower caddy? He cringed at the idea, but he must have figured he could toss it out once I dropped him off. It’s a delicate dance, helping your young adult child think and letting him think for himself.
So the list of things I would have packed for the boy to take that he left behind? Photos from our last summer’s family vacation. Extra socks. The Beanie Baby gorilla I gave him when he turned 8. And this broken piece of my heart.Filed under Letting go | Comment (0)