Transition

We were visiting with some acquaintances after church on Sunday. Their daughter had been married the week before and I was enjoying hearing their description of her very lovely wedding. They asked about the Precious Daughters and we verified that both girls were both off to college this year. They asked when they were leaving and right there on the church walkway I started crying.

The Saint and I moved Precious Oldest back to school on Saturday. She will be an R.A. this year, so she went back early to get trained, to get her floor organized, to decorate doors and be there to welcome the residents. We met her boss, we like him very much. One of her friends is an R.A. three floors up and they are so excited about this new adventure.

We take Precious Youngest to school next Tuesday. Two hours in the opposite direction of her sister. We have started packing and will be checking our list carefully. She has been in contact with her room mate (so far so good) and will have several friends from high school enrolled there as well. Her class schedule worked out nicely and we anticipate a good launch.

They will be fine, we will be fine, I keep telling myself these things over and over. After all I do have a life; a job, a husband, friends, hobbies. But PEOPLE I am SAD. All their light and energy and enthusiasm is going to go with them. The same energy that sparked more than one fire over the years to be sure; but energy that has brought us immeasurable joy. It will not be the same when they’re gone.

Maudlin

I've been a little grumpy. And out of sorts. I thought maybe it was because I've been staying up too late watching the Olympics. But something occurred to me yesterday.

I was driving with Precious Oldest to Target to do a "Back to College" run. (Holy hell people, start saving $$$ NOW!) And I started to get a little misty. And I realized I'm in the throws of my annual they're going "Back to School" schlump.

Precious Oldest leaves on Monday. Precious Youngest is checking in as we speak. Getting her last high school ID picture taken. Paying for her last high school parking permit. Getting her last locker assignment. This morning I took the last "First Day of School" picture.

1997, First and Third Grade

I don't know where the time has gone. I look at these faces and my eyes fill with tears, my throat closes up. From the day they were born I prepared them to leave us, to be on their own, to be successful. But now that they're doing it? I wish I wouldn't have been so damned efficient.

Bittersweet

Taking my kids for their first day of school was always bittersweet. Supplies were bought, uniforms were unearthed, forms (OMG the forms!) were filled out. Year after year we organized and prepared. Then the class lists were posted just days before the start of school! Good teacher or bad? Best friends in your class or not? Even as they grew older there was always excitement and anticipation before the start of a new year. But I was never quite prepared. As I walked away from their classrooms my throat would tighten, my eyes would well and out would come the Kleenex.

Don’t get me wrong, after a summer of driving to hell and back sixteen times a day, bickering, nagging, boredom leisure, I welcomed the return to the routine of the school year. (The same routine which I abandoned with unadulterated joy every spring!) But even the high school years leave me feeling a tiny bit empty. My heart hurts a little knowing these children of mine are that much closer to leaving me.

And then it was upon me. We took Precious Oldest to college on Saturday. My beautiful girl. My first. She’s ready. So confident and sure of herself in ways I never was. She needs this experience, this slow moving away. And though she’ll be back, I know in my heart something fundamental has shifted. And I miss her.