How did I get here? Where have the years gone? I send these questions out to a peaceful world pondering the same thing. My oldest baby and my youngest baby celebrate birthdays this week, one is 30, and the other is 21. Like that, it feels different.
I started this series years ago, preparing for 18, then graduation, college or career, now 21. It seems silly, yet my heart doesn’t agree. Deep inside, I feel a strong sense of emotion, an unfamiliar sadness. I don’t miss the younger years, and I’m not longing to get back those teen years.
I worked through the mystery of saying goodbye years ago. Those were difficult days. I was lost in the differences between my two roles-mom to kids and mom to adults. I’m no longer confused. With a 30-year-old son, I’m an expert.
Still, if I look deep enough inside, I know there’s a hole. I can’t wrap my mind around the sense of loss. I often felt like I was slamming against a brick wall. Hard-headed kids led to big fights and hurting hearts. I am grateful it’s passed. Maybe I’m concerned I failed. Until they are all settled, the small worry stays active. Is this a mom thing? My guess is yes.
As I continue swimming through life, I count my blessings. First, I’m still floating. I made it through this far. Second, these kids are my life, the gifts that saved me time and again. For all the ups and downs, the joy measures in mountaintops. Each of my children creates a unique beat of my heart, and for that, I am thankful.
To all my loves, thank you