Time to Exhale

Kindergarten

With Nicole, I’ve been more cognizant of lasts than I have of firsts. The last time being pregnant, the last time washing and folding onesies of a particular size, the last first day of kindergarten, the last set of driving lessons, the last SAT Saturday, and now the last to be packed off to college.

Yes, there is some heartache with this last. Things will be different. Things will be strange. I can’t really remember a time when there wasn’t a child in this house. As I walk around the house, I see signs of her and expect her to be here, but she isn’t. It will take some time to get used to this.

But, in addition to the heartache, there is happiness as well. I’m happy for her. See that smile in the photo? It has only been within the past year that that smile has returned on a consistent basis. She is excited about college, and I’m excited for her. I think she is looking forward to taking on responsibilities and doing things on her own. I saw that even in the way she unpacked and actually organized her belongings. I got the sense that she felt this room was hers more than her room at home ever was.

I am also happy for myself. I feel like I can take a deep breath and say “I made it.” You see I don’t do well with the day-to-day, in-your-face worries. Worries such as did she eat a good breakfast? Did she do her homework? Is she getting enough sleep? Will I have dinner ready before she leaves the house (because her eating well is much more important to me than it is to her)? Shouldn’t she be home by now from practice? Is she driving safely? What is going on at that party she is at? If there is a fire at night, will she be able to get out of her room without tripping over all the clothes on the floor? Will she actually ever get around to packing?

Were these worries warranted? For the most part, no. Were they appreciated? Nope. People don’t usually like being worried about. Were they helpful? Probably not. In fact, they might have done both her and me more harm than good. Could I have stopped myself?  No way.

I will still have worries about all three of my daughters. But they won’t be the exhausting, day-to-day, in-your-face worries. It’s time for me to let go of those worries.

For the next few days, I’ll be missing her. And taking deep breaths. And exhaling.