Dear Reader: Today is the the last day of school for my two youngest children. Tomorrow, they will begin the long summer wait for the next school year to start. This cyclical passing of time is short-lived, I know, punctuated by those all-familiar rituals which change as they (and I) age. This essay is in homage to them and the reality that time is truly fleeting…

Today, I waved to both my daughter and son as they rode away on the school bus.  It was the silly kind of wave – two arms flailing, and me jumping up and down as if I was flagging down a passing ship.  I made the heart sign to them and blew them both a kiss. We all continued waving until the bus was out of sight.  Walking back to my house, I had a lump in my throat. I am so sad. The times they are a’changing… I’m sad for the lack of these experiences I had with my own mother; sad for the time which is passing so quickly; sad, too, that I see that my parenting must be working well – my daughter and son still long for me daily.  I did not have that connection with my own mother.

I will continue to try my hardest to fulfill those needs, until their hands stop reaching for mine, their arm waves stop and I see them waving to their friends, not to me. That time is coming. In fact, it’s just around the corner.

Writer Kelly Salasin blogged, “There are so many deaths in mothering, beginning at the beginning, and arriving every day after. But equally matched with these deaths are the blessings of a new life – new growth – new possibility.” These words haunt me. I spent so much time trying to keep things the same; having kids changed that. I spent so much time trying to live the same life; having kids changed that. I spent all my time trying to keep people out, keeping my life (force) in; having kids changed that, too.

When my children arrived, I listened to little that people said.  Everyone had advice, even if mostly unsolicited. They didn’t understand the traumas we all adjusted to; they didn’t understand the struggles we’d all had just to get here. But, the one thing I heard and followed was to “cherish these times wisely.” (Translated: be in the now). I say this to myself daily. I pray with these words.

So, in a few months, as the first bus of the new school year drives away from our house, I will wave with gusto, count all my blessings, and cry if I need to.  These days will surely come to an end very, very soon.