Andrew and Daniel, Andrew's first day of kindergarten, 1991
Gut-wrenching moments always hit you when you’re not prepared, you know?
Like this morning. Who knew that when my full-grown, amazingly mature third (and last) son left for school this morning, hearing his car crunch the gravels on the way out would suddenly make me feel like I couldn’t breathe.
I hadn’t even thought about it until this morning, after he left, but this was the last first day of school for me as a mom. Eighteen years ago I walked two little boys down the street to Westwood Elementary, and came home with only one: the first day of kindergarten for Andrew, giving Daniel and me the morning hours to figure out what to do without big brother to play with. A month later I was pregnant with Jared. And this morning, Jared kissed mom goodbye, grabbed his coffee and his bookbag, rolled his eyes, sighed, and drove off to his first day of his senior year.
Moms all around me are dealing with this same melancholy these days. My sister left her last child at university last week. A friend just found out what a kick in the gut it is to do that for your first one (nothing can prepare you for the power of that kick). Others are letting go of little hands at kindergarten doors. The pains of childbirth are not over when you think they are over.
But here is some encouragement, after you’ve had a good cry: If they come to thrive in their new environment, you have done your job well. Leaving is what they are supposed to do. You receive them, you nurture them and pray over them, and then you give them to the world. If they go out with God, that gift to the world will be a blessing indeed.
So it was good medicine this morning to reflect that before he left, Jared had gotten himself up early for a morning run and then some quiet devotional time on the couch. Last week Daniel e-mailed me his excitement about ministry possibilities at Chapel Hill this year, and asked for prayer. And Andrew just posted a blog update from his new job (ministry internship) at Virginia Tech — the content of which was exactly what a mom with an empty nest needed to hear this morning: God is at work.
But I still miss them. If you’re a newly-sprung gift to the world, do me a favor: call your mama. She misses you.
