Our older son is set to graduate from high school in about two weeks. I'm just not ready! I know it's part of life - part of raising children - that they will (God willing) eventually grow up. Still, I wasn't prepared for how quickly it would happen. To me he will always be that curious little boy (photo courtesy of my darling husband, James). The one with the pinchable cheeks and the enormous brown eyes. I look at the man he's become and I just can't seem to take it in. He's tall (5'9" and still growing), very handsome (dark brown eyes, slightly curly dark brown hair, slender, chiseled features), and extremely bright (heading off to college next year to major in mathematics). I'm quite proud, of course, that my husband and I made, created, and nurtured this fine person. I'm especially proud that he's learned it all so well. When he voluntarily helps around the house, or holds open a car door for a friend, or stands to offer his seat to a stranger it's all I can do not to shout, "That's MY son!" We've done a good job, and I know I have to let him go.Still, nothing prepared me for how hard it would be. I see the signs of his pulling away, and I'm just not ready for it. His bedroom door is more often closed than open, hushed phone conversations or faint guitar chords on the other side. Time out with his friends has taken the place of time at home with the family, and more often than not he's gone on weekend evenings. He's got his own life, and it's no longer the same as mine. It's still there, still connected (of course), but he's becoming the adult he's supposed to be. In my mind he'll always be my little boy, but I know I have to start giving up control.
We've taught him to fly, and now it's time to let him soar.
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