Since he was 5, he’s slung a backpack onto his small shoulders and walked away from me, a little farther every time.
He’s gone to sleepaway camps, onto school buses, and into my car to drive himself to high school, a little farther every time.
And one day, before you can even grasp the enormity of it all, you drop him off at a big international airport. He slings his backpack over his now broad shoulder and grabs his bags stuffed with clothes and protein bars and toiletries, (and who knows what else!) and he walks away from me, going so far.
I wait for a few moments just to make sure he gets in safe, and then he’s gone. Again. Ready to go far in every way.
It is both exactly how it is supposed to be and yet feels completely unnatural. It is both hope for what comes next and grief for what passed. It is both breathtaking and heartbreaking.
He is always walking away from me, and I get through this sadness knowing he’s moving towards something wonderful.
I sat in my car for a minute, wondering how I got from the first preschool drop-off to watching my oldest get on a plane to fly off, I told myself, whatever I’m feeling right now, it’s okay.
I’m not going to let anyone else tell me how I SHOULD be feeling; and certainly wont let anyone tell me that my feelings are invalid or wrong.
If your journey is like mine, filled with so many ups and downs and twists and turns that I’m a little relieved that I’ve even made it to this point.
So, I’m going to feel every bit of it, without remorse, without guilt, without shame.
There are times I miss my son deeply. Of course there are still times I’m frustrated by his inability to answer a text or and times I am exasperated by his behavior.
But mostly, I wonder how did I get here so fast, and I’m trying to learn how to love hard from afar.
I’m okay with watching that backpack walk away from me again and again, because deep down, I know that he knows I’m always here to love him, no matter what.
With our beloved Chudley!
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