Be in the moment.
This morning when I woke up and tossed my legs over the side of the bed the first thought I had was, “This is our last week together. As a family.” My eyes were barely open and this is the first thought that came to mind.
I do this a lot lately. I talk to myself. I give myself little pep talks. I grab at Buddhist concepts that represent something comforting to me about accepting change. And simply being. And not trying to hang on to every little sentimental moment with clutching fingernails.
Because I’m really trying. I’m trying to grow into the kind of person that welcomes monstrous, clunky changes that involve reorganizing my entire world. I’m trying to be a sturdy Yoda when inside I feel like a fluttering Anne Hall.
I’m trying to inhale without the shaky breath in my chest and the wetness in my eyes whenever it hits me that in only a matter of days my youngest child will no longer live under our roof. And life will be forever different. Period.
Because that’s the truth and I can’t sugar-coat it. In a week Michael will live 422 miles away from me. And that fact makes this mother’s heart of mine ache.
Yes, of course I’m overflowing with excitement for him. I’m thrilled for him, he needs to go. But at the same time I’m gathering my emotional soldiers in place and preparing for the final realities. The first morning when I walk by his empty bedroom and see a neatly made bed. The-end-of-the-night when there is no more whisper of “Night Mom,” with a kiss planted on my head. No more loud door slams accompanied by “Mooooom I’m starving… what’s to eat…?” bellowing through the house.
This is change. This is life. And you know what? It’s hard.
So this is the way I pace myself; this is the way I get ready for the hugs and the good-byes and the approaching sound of quietness that will be the new guest in our home because both boys will now be gone. I allow these millions of random thoughts to drift through my mind while I shop for towels and kitchen supplies and smile and plan and busily work on transforming the thrift store table into a college desk.
I acknowledge the truth to myself. I realize that this time around the college-drop off feels very, very different.
Because this is my last one. This is my baby.
p.s anyone else getting ready for the college drop-off?