It sure has been a long time since my last post, time sure does fly--- sometimes way too quickly.
Since my last post my oldest son graduated high school and turned 18. My mom brought him a card today, and she brought me a clipping from a magazine [she does that sometimes and I don't know if she realizes how much it means, it shows she is thinking of me even if we haven't talked to each other or seen each other for a few days]. The clipping from the magazine titled "940 Saturdays" stated that there are 940 Saturdays from the day our children are born until their 18th birthday [from no regrets parenting by Harley Rotbart, MD]. I can't believe I have only had 940 Saturdays with my son. This raises so so so many things in my mind. At first I have to say that I was thrilled at the idea that he was legally an adult in the state of Pennsylvania[FREE AT LAST THANK GOD ALMIGHTY I AM FREE AT LAST]. Until I realized, this is sad, really sad. I want a re-do. I want to go back and start over. I don't want him to be 18, or even 8 for that matter. I want him to be newborn again all 4 pounds of his skinny bird like legs and wide brown eyes. I want him to be a baby again...but he can't. And I don't get my re-do. It is a very difficult transition. More so than I ever thought possible. I didn't believe that it would be so hard. I actually prided myself on his independence. I actually believed I would have many different emotions surrounding this time, sadness was one I did not count on.
Anyway, how does time get ahead of us this quickly, so many of us count days until the weekends, count days until vacation, count days until the last or first day of school. Wishing time away. I do it. But seeing that number "940" makes me think twice about doing so. In fact, I am going to make it a true effort NOT to do so.
Leading to my second point here, while our children make transitions and meet all of their age appropriate milestones, take a minute to notice and remind them to do so also. I bring this up because as I sat in the same stadium where I graduated high school from, watching him sit on the same field that I did, I realized I couldn't remember where I sat at my own graduation. I didn't remember the speaches, I didn't remember my reactions afterwards, I do remember some other parts of that warm June night, but I couldn't remember every detail and I wanted to and I tried but I couldn't. Making me realize how even when we try to keep very important events in our minds it is easy to forget. And making it more sad, I realized that someday I might not remember every detail of his graduation.
I also thought about how this day changed my son in so many ways. It changed both of us. I now have to remind him not to stay up too late because he will have "class" in the morning versus telling him to go to bed because he won't be able to get up for school. I will now have to ask him how his classes are going, and I won't exactly know who the teachers/professors are and I certainly won't have parent teacher conferences. He won't have to ask me to sign papers, or tests, or permisson slips. School vs. Class - it sure does change a lot. Doesn't it?
BUT, I also have news for him, 18 years ago on a very warm June day, I took on a job that I can never quit. I may not be needed to sign permisson slips, but I am still here. Just as my mom has proven to me that she thinks of me even when we aren't together, I will always find a way to do the same for him. And who knows, maybe someday I will be clipping articles that remind me of him and drop them off at his house. NOT that I am counting the days until that happens. For now I am grateful that I will have some more of those Saturdays to tack on to our number of the amount of days that we live together.