The night before our family left to drive Nathan to Florida for his first year of college, he and I went out to run a few last-minute errands. Although I tried to act like it was just a regular night, I know that Nathan was aware of the swirl of my emotions–the sadness, the joy, the pride, the tears teetering behind certain sentences as the coming goodbye loomed over us.
When we finally finished up and pulled into the garage, I got out of the van headed toward the house. It wasn’t until I had glanced back over my shoulder to say something to Nathan that I noticed he was just standing quietly near the van, his arms stretched out toward me, the dearest expression warming his face.
I took two steps toward him and in a garage dusty with memories, in a spot outside the kitchen where multiple helpings of love and chicken casserole had been served, my son wrapped his long, strong arms around me and let me cry my goodbye.
In that moment, I knew that I wasn’t the only one saying goodbye; I knew that Nathan was saying his own goodbye to the months and years that had stitched together his childhood. He knew the door was about to close on a precious, priceless parcel of time that could never again be revisited or repeated.
Life has moved on. Not only has it brought Nathan all the responsibilities of adulthood, but it has also brought him the sweetest wife and a (brilliant, handsome) baby boy. And that means that I now have more people to hug goodbye. And it also means that I have even more mama tears to cry. But underneath those tears is the comfort of knowing that I am a part of a circle of love. And I am reminded that it is the love that births the tears.
Even though the years have made Nathan into a man, every time I see him, I still see this. I still see a little boy.
I see a little boy because mamas will always look at their children with their hearts. And even when Nathan is sixty and I am eighty-seven, that picture won’t change. I loved that little boy. I loved that 17-year old teenager in the garage. And I love the man and husband and daddy my son has become.
And there is one thing this mama’s heart knows for sure. When our children come and when our children go, when some doors open and when other doors close–love leans in and holds us close. When a freshly birthed generation makes its way down new roads and creates the children who will create the future–love leans in and holds them close.
And when a small boy grows up strong and hugs his mama and then becomes a father to a son who will one day hug him goodbye outside their kitchen door . . . love will lean in. Love will hold them close.
How do I know that? Because through life’s long years, down life’s long paths, I have felt the leanings of love.
(Note: Since we spent time last week discussing Sarah’s upcoming college plans, I couldn’t help but think back to when I wrote about Nathan leaving for college. Although this is a freshly written post, it is based on the “bones” of that earlier post. )
Becky, I know this is a super late response, but I have a question or two for you. Have you ever considered natural/homeopathic remedies? And have you ever considered that gluten may be the culprit? I SO firmly believe that what we put in our bodies accounts for a lot of the problems we have physically. I am 46 and was having TERRIBLE drenching night sweats. I found a health food (mom & pop) store that had all these herbal remedies lining the walls of the store in Ball Jars. I got a liver cleanse and voila – the night sweats disappeared!! I’m telling you that to say that I’ll bet there is a natural way to fix the problem you’re having. I have a great interest in earth cures and have seen some really awesome things happen from going in that direction.
Just something to consider from a long time reader of your blog. 🙂
God bless you!
Lisa,
I’m sending you an email. 🙂
I am with you! Love each of my five children equally and differently. Sadly my youngest passed away this summer but I will alway have 5. They were all 18 months apart in age from each other and extremely close. Waiting for grandchildren!
Lauren,
So happy to read how much you love your sweet children. So sad to read that one of them passed away so recently. But I LOVED what you said that you “will always have five.” How very true that is.
Here’s wishing for many grandchildren to continue to fill your lap and your heart!
(And I was just thinking about 5 kids 18 months apart. Wow! You hand your hands full for a while!)
OK. That is a magazine article for sure! Send it today! Love your “heart writings” my friend!
Sheri,
You’re so sweet! I think that often when I read YOUR posts!
pass the kleenex
Lesley,
Yeah, you’ve been there, done that twice! It never gets easier but we never get any less proud, do we?
so good.
Thanks, Deb. Your “Caleb Day” is comin’!
I know you’ll miss him when he goes off to major in 19 different subjects. 🙂
wonderful post. had to get the Kleenex out.
Becky,
Thanks for letting me know it touched your heart–and your tear ducts. I cried a bit while writing it!
You couldn’t have said it better. My middle son also lives in Fl and it has been 18 years, but each time I go visit, I see my child, now a man, husband and father. We still share tears on arrival and departing. They are always our children no matter the age and the love of a mother never changes. I miss him so much, but he is happy and has a wonderful life with his family, that is how it should be. We raise them to the best of out ability and then we have to let them fly. Have a beautiful day.
Connie,
Isn’t that so true? Our children get older and older and in our hearts we keep on seeing them as our little ones. I loved what you said, “We raise them to the best of out ability and then we have to let them fly.”
Letting them go fly is not easy!
definitely LOVELY!
Thank you, Mrs. Pam. Love my kids!