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.
August 25, 2009 at 12:17 pm
Oh my word, I’m in tears. I looked up from reading your blog (already crying) and noticed Macey rocking back and forth, about to crawl, for the first time…tears poured down my cheeks even harder! Time flies, huh?! So exciting to hear about you guys. I love to read your blog-you have such a gift!
August 25, 2009 at 8:20 pm
Thanks, Mandy! And here are some comments from friends not quite brave enough to post comments on the blog:
“A mother’s heart…how many breathless moments there are to ponder.”
“maybe this is why I feel sad and no direction today…”
“Been there…done that! Brings back those memories. Praise the Lord that the kids walk with HIM and He’s not done with any of us yet…drawing us ever closer through the disappointments and pain of life to a knowledge that He truly is ENOUGH.”
“I had those same feelings yesterday as [my son] went off to school for his first, last day. Did I say that right? Thanks for your encouraging words and a reminder that this is what we have raised them for…to go out into this world and be a light in this dark world.”
August 27, 2009 at 12:20 pm
Thanks Wendy! I will be sure to think of your words if I’m ever having a hard day with Luke. And I will go hug and kiss and snuggle with him…when he wakes up from his nap of course! May I make to most of every moment!
August 27, 2009 at 5:09 pm
Hey Wendy,
So, last night I was having a low parenting moment and feeling completely overwhelmed with the thought of adding another child to our too often chaotic family life. The house was trashed…legos all over the floor, couch cushions barricading the stairs to keep out the bad guys, superhero costumes flung wherever they happened to land, and me, feeling pregnantly exhausted. So, I went up to bed. Jeff came up about 10 minutes later and said I needed to read something before I went to sleep. I wasn’t very happy about having one more thing that I needed to do before I went to sleep. But several minutes later, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I was indeed grateful that he had ‘disturbed’ me.
So, thanks. Thanks for the beautiful reflection on parenting. Even though I’m at such a different stage in this journey, I know in my gut that it all passes so quickly. Your words were a timely reminder and good medicine for my weary soul.
Jul
And hey! You’re a great writer!