The Days Are Long But The Years Are Short

When I was 18, my mom dropped me off at my first day of college orientation. In the parking lot, before I got out of the car, she started crying.

I thought she was crazy. We lived less than three miles from the college I’d be attending. I’d be living at home. I’d see her every day. I could not fathom why she was crying.

This week, I’ve cried three separate times just thinking about my son, who is currently a junior, going to college in a year.

He’s 17 right now and thankfully a good student and athlete. His teachers tell me about how well he participates in class, the food services director tells me he works hard in the kitchen there and she’s really grateful for him. I work at the school he attends so I almost feel silly crying - I mean, I’ve had the privilege of watching him grow through high school. Not many parents get that. He stops by to say hi, brings his friends by my office - he is just a great kid that I am so proud of.

Junior year is that time when the college talks start. When the visits start. When the mail from universities starts coming addressed to him.

And apparently, it’s the time I start crying. I realize now that, like my mother, it’s not about how far away a child goes. It’s about how fast time flies and how precious every moment is - and how no matter how old they get, they are still your baby.

The 18-year-old in my heart is saying, “Yes kiddo, go adventure! Go to college away from home! Live on campus! Try a warmer state! Travel!”

And the mom in me is saying the same thing, while simultaneously wanting to hug him and cook him frozen pizzas at 11 pm forever while we talk in the kitchen.

But this is what all that raising up was, right? To get them ready to move on to the next phase in life. When I held him in my arms for the very first time, I prayed that he would grow into a strong, smart, independent young man and now, he has. But he’s also still that precious little guy that made me a mama.

I hope that he finds whatever path in life is meant to be his next one. I hope that he adventures and makes even more friends. I hope that he invites us to visit and comes home once in awhile so we can chat about anything and everything.

And I hope he’s ok with me crying a few times before he heads off on that adventure. I’m so proud of the young man he’s become and I can’t wait to see what he does when he spreads his wings.