big time transitions

My son is graduating from high school next month. I’m so excited for him. Really, I am. I also want to cry. I get lumps in my throat the size of matzo balls thinking of that little boy with his cute way of talking sitting on the kitchen counter and peeling carrots for a salad.

Or when he used to play hockey in the family room and sock baseball with the giant stuffed turtle. Or his constant Yahtzee playing, lego building, and mad geography skills.

While he is anything but little now, I still see the little boy in him like when he falls asleep on the couch while watching golf or disagreeing with us about something ridiculous like whether the food left out all night is safe to eat. (It’s not).  

When he was younger, he was convinced that football was pronounced fooball and was not having it when we explained to him that the t was, in fact, not silent.

This is really one of those yes and times. Transitions usually are. I’m sad and excited. And a million other things. It will be different. Everything changes. This is how it is. Resisting change is futile. Acceptance of it is hard and liberating.

He is ready to be doing his own thing. I mean in so many ways, he already is. And I think it will be better for me to not know what he’s doing every second of the day. He deserves privacy and independence. And I need sleep.

I remember the days following his birth and the way I missed being pregnant. I realized in that moment that raising a child is a life long lesson in letting go, surrendering and trusting - a little bit at a time like letting out the string on a kite until it’s flying high in the sky. Swim lessons, preschool, kindergarten, sleepovers, sleepaway camp, driving, trips sans me, college, etc.

I’ve tried to attend most of his tennis matches this season because I love watching him play and after all these years of little league, a season or two of soccer and one of basketball, I know the practices and games that I often complained about or felt awkward at (keeping score is not my jam) are nearing the end.  I’m trying to be present and enjoy watching him do what he loves. That’s it. Just being present to it all.

And not ignoring my need for support and expression during this time.

During a big transition, it helps to remember the continued sources of comfort and security that will always be here. For me, it’s movies and books, coffee dates with friends, music, long walks, and sunsets.

But what has changed and is no more is also exposed, and that part can be tough to digest. The relationships that have changed over time, the ones you thought would be supportive, the people you love who aren’t here anymore. Just the other day when I was driving to watch a tennis match, I thought of my mom and how much she would have loved to watch him play tennis and how great it would be to have her here at his high school graduation.

I want to keep the celebratory nature of this time in the forefront of my sentimental noggin because there is so much to celebrate! I’m proud of him, proud of us as parents, and so grateful for all of his teachers, friend’s parents, our family, coaches, and kind adults who have taken an interest in nurturing his sweet soul.

There is so much to look forward to too like his graduation ceremony, summer travel, family weekend in the fall in a new part of the country, great meals and adventures together and watching this man, my son, whom I love so deeply, continue to grow and learn and become more and more himself.