It is amazing how one day, one small milestone success can make such a big difference, and just like that (insert sound of snapping of fingers here) your life changes.
Amy passed her behind the wheel test. Her laminated driver’s license will be arriving in the mail soon. She is now able to drive herself to school, work and other places that I used to drive her. I should be ecstatic. No more calls at midnight to tell me the movie is out, or that she is ready to be picked up from work. No more driving her to piano and waiting outside in the car while she has her lesson which, when the window was open, I could faintly hear. This will be a huge change in my time and schedule, and I should be happy. I am. Really.
But, with this new freedom comes loss. Calling shotgun used to be an every morning ordeal as her and Jack, who is just a few years behind her in age, hurried out the door. Asking how her day was, as she plopped her backpack into the trunk and settled into the passenger seat, was a time of connection: not just a ritual of hearing but really listening. Amy would tell me about her homework assignments, how things were going with friends and the grade she got on her last math or English test.
It seemed like yesterday I worried about my cherub faced ballerina swallowing a penny or a stray Lego, now, I anxiously wait for the call that her and Jack made the short drive to school, unscathed, in the old Camry.
It doesn’t matter how many times I have already gone through “Mom Transition”, the reality for me is that soon the last of my kiddos will leave the nest. After almost 29 years, the end of my child raising days are quickly coming to an end.
Days like today make busy toddler years seem like a piece of cake.
Corrie tenBoom talked about holding things loosely because it hurts when God has to pry our fingers off of what we are clutching onto. This includes our children.
This morning, the car left with Amy behind the wheel and me standing in the doorway, reminding her to call when she got to school. I also had to reminded myself that I do not own my kids, I am just the lucky steward who loves being their mom.
Note to self: I thought writing “Empty Nest: Strategies To Help Your Kids Take Flight” would help others, but I think I will make myself a cup of coffee and read it again for myself. And I will probably need a box of Kleenex…maybe I should plan for at least two cups. Big ones.