The truth is, this entire journey has been an adventure like none other. We're given this being, to watch and protect. We spend countless hours making sure that it eats, and sleeps, and stays clean and healthy. I mean we have to keep it ALIVE! We start making every decision in our lives with this person's best interest in mind. Our heart begins to feel things it has never felt before. Like, did you know you could cry from happiness from watching someone else succeed at blowing a bubble? Or riding without training wheels? How about reading their first word? Or tieing their shoe? Did you realize that you could have moments where you were so afraid that what you had just said/done was going to negatively impact someone's life forever? If you just said, "yes" more....or maybe if you just said, "no" more often...You're in fact laying the foundation for a person's life.
Then, somewhere along the line you learn that you're not the end all, save all in their life. That they have free will. There are outside factors that also will help to mold and shape them. Things that you have no control over. At first this is scary, but then you come to realize that this is the first moment of letting go...and it's OK. When you watch them walk into school all alone for the first time, or when they go to a play date without you. The little strings start to get cut one by one. When they call a friend to tell them about a success before they share it with you. When the bedroom door is no longer left open all the time.
In fact, the design of it all eases you into it thankfully. It would definitely be more of a shock if we went from diapers to driver's license in one month. There's a reason that just about the time they start to realize that maybe you don't know everything, they get their first taste of real freedom, and you get a serious dose of powerlesness as about a million strings get cut when you hand over those car keys.
There's also no coincidence that they begin to be, shall we say, less than the adorable little people they once were. It seems that everytime I start to feel the weight of his moving out, he'll make a comment, say for instance, about my "lady brain" (his term) and the fact that it cant comprehend the mechanics of a winch (which may or may not be true), or he'll send me some hideous candid photo that he took of me to send to his friends (haha look at my mom), and I think, "Bon Voyage Buddy, don't let the door hit you!" Then there's the large loads of laundry, the dirty socks on the floor, the unmade beds, the grumpy mornings, the dirty looks. Man I'm going to miss all of that terribly!
I guess it all boils down to mourning the passing of time even when you probably should be rejoicing in it. The logistics aside, there is a sense of loss when you look back as to how fast time really goes by. How quickly children go from calling you, "Momma," to "Ma." How the rock or Snapple cap collections turn into music libraries. The little tiny toddler shoes replaced by men's size 11's that you nearly break your neck tripping over daily. The little guy who thought you were the most beautiful, intelligent woman in the world who ends up thinking you're slightly ridiculous.
You also realize that time hasn't stood still for you. The terrified first-time mother who has the pediatrician on speed-dial ends up turning into the mother who can correctly diagnose most diseases. Moving from being somewhat uptight and judgemental to emphatic and a lot more laid back because life has brought you to your knees more times than you'd like to admit and you know now exactly who you are and where you stand. Your role in their life has changed so much. You have grown up alongside them.
Somehow through all of the temper tantrums, scraped knees, night terrors, calls from the principal, and sarcastic remarks he has become my best friend. Not in the way that the line between parent and child is blurred to allow disrespect, but in the way that he's become the best that I could have ever hoped for. That the piece of my heart that will forever live outside of me and in him is reflected by an amazing and beautiful young man. Here's to the next part of our journey Jason. I love you.
