It just keeps going. Time, that is. No stopping. No frozen moments. It just continues on, changing everything in its wake. I used to be a young mom, juggling diapers, sippy cups and playdates. Then, I was a soccer mom--lacing cleats, keeping score, planning celebratory pizza parties. I was a camp mom...enduring the summer heat and less than favorable living conditions so I could share in the joy that is camp with my girls. Then they got a little bigger, and when it was time to loosen the reins, just a little bit...overnight, it seemed, they slipped right out of my grasp. They grew up.
How did they change so much, when I still feel new at this?
My life before them, was really, just the time I would spend waiting for them. Longing to have a family of my own, to be "Mom". I imagined I'd be perfect. Always patient, kind, always ready with a band-aid, comforting words, homework help. Dinner ready every night. Laundry always washed and folded. Patience never thin. I'd be a great role model, friend, yet firm disciplinarian.
On some days, I think I was pretty perfect. On others...many others, I'm quite sure I fell short of perfection. I gave in a little too much, lost patience a lot, and I'm not even going to mention the laundry. It's just that I always thought there would be a tomorrow to try to get it right again. But the tomorrow's are waning. Hayley has already finished freshman year in college. She has friends that I may never meet, a life I will never fully share, and a path that she needs to forge on her own. And now Sydney is graduating high school. And all over again, this weird mixture of pride, joy and dread at the inevitable chore of letting go, has taken hold.
In a little more than a week, both of my oldest girls will be headed to camp for the summer. This time, as staff members. And that's it. They'll come home for a few days before they go off to college, but essentially our life with just one child at home starts in just a few days. This is a brand new chapter.
I hope I can give Addie the patience and perfection that often eluded me during her sisters' teenaged years. I hope she will enjoy her next 6 years as an "only" child. I pray my house is filled with love and joy and abundance. That I remember to treasure every little milestone in her journey. That I won't forget that in the blink of an eye, this familiar dread will reappear and we will be waving goodbye to her as well.
In the meantime, I'll be holding back the tears for the next few weeks, as we watch Sydney reach this milestone. It's bittersweet. It's exciting. And for me, it's the tomorrow I never realized would get here so quickly.
