Letting Go

 Well, the summer is finally upon us with plans for celebrations, transitions, vacations, or hopefully some relaxation time with family. It is a pinnacle point of connection for us because both Nic & Bart graduated this year and with flying colors. Bart is making plans to move to Gainsville to start as a junior at UF after he attends ROTC boot camp. Nic moves on to graduate school in software engineering. It is a bittersweet time for me and Jack. We have spent many years encouraging our children that they can do anything they put their heart and mind into if they believe they can. They are shining in their desire to experience it all. On the other hand we know it is a time of transition for us all. No more dirty dishes left in the sink. Lights will be out and stay out when I turn them off. I will attempt to sleep without my ear plugs knowing that the disruption of the TV at 2:00am won’t be there to startle my preciously light sleeping pattern, no matter how quiet Bart tried to be. No worries about weather they will meet curfew safely and sober. Yes, Jack and I can get back to running around the house naked without worry of a surprise entrance. It all is good. I can actually say I have no more teens living in my house. They have graduated into young adults able to make and be responsible for their choices.

In all the glory of celebrating their milestones, however, there is a faint breath of sadness. I am losing what I have known to be the most precious part of my parenting; the mommy in me. I am losing the role of the being sometimes the only one in their eyes that would understand, comfort and be there at every turn. I am losing the times I could pamper them when they had a skinned knee. I am losing the times we made cookies together and ate them while they were still hot with a cold glass of milk. I am losing the ability to make the monsters magically disappear in the middle of the night and the ability to just say, “It’s okay, Mommy’s here to keep you safe.” I am losing the days of teaching them to tie their shoes, clean their rooms (not that they ever learned that one well), dial the phone, use a checkbook and answer “Where do babies come from?”. It is not all lost. I know there will be times they will call for advice and that I will always be there Mom, but just in a different way. I’m not all that sure how that will unfold but I look forward to the new challenges while keeping the memories of once were.

To all of you I wish you a summer with many moments of connection to help build a treasure box of memories! Happy summer!