Firsts, lasts & letting go

It’s funny—in life, well perhaps moreso in parenthood, we have no knowledge of ‘lasts’. We can tell you all about ‘firsts’, as a matter of fact many of them are memorialized in a pastel-hued baby book, but the lasts appear with no ceremony, no celebration & really, without even much recognition. For instance, I couldn’t tell you the very last time I gave my son a bottle, or fed him mushy foods on a highchair’s tray table. Nor could I tell you the last time I held him on my hip. Same goes for the last time he wrote “Caiben” instead of Caiden”, those pesky b’s & d’s were once so confusing! The 13 pieces of artwork that jammed a weekly school folder are a hazy memory now. I blinked & these little sweetness’s of young childhood had disappeared. But lately there’s a ‘last’ that’s been all too obvious & it’s been taking my breath away as I watch another chapter quietly close…

I keep seeing my beautiful boy, all loopy curls & freckles, standing at the back of a train caboose. He’s laughing, he has a broad, toothy smile & in the higher-pitched voice of yesteryear he’s saying “Bye Mamaaaaa!!” He has this overly-enthusiastic wave (not unlike Forest Gump’s as he waved to Lieutenant Dan from his shrimpin’ boat) as the train slowly pulls away. Through tear-blurred eyes I’m looking at full cheeks & chubby hands & yet I’m frozen, my legs won’t move no matter how badly I want to sprint after that moving car. I’m forced to watch him go. I’m trying to scream “noooooooo!!” but no sound will come from my voice. All I can do is watch that caboose go & the only sliver of comfort I have is that my baby is smiling, he is happy.

I know why I keep having this vision & I’m trying so desperately to get comfortable with this vision, even find the joy in this vision… but I’m not there yet. For now, all I see is the goodbye -- the goodbye of Caiden, my little boy, as Caiden, my young man, takes his place.

The change was so subtle at first… when the two of us would hold hands no longer did I feel stickiness, squish & tiny pudge, instead I felt muscle, strength, leanness -- same with our snuggles. As I wrapped my arm around Caiden’s waist & buried my head between his shoulder blades it almost felt like a stranger’s slender yet powerful frame rested in front of me. His eyebrows are thicker, his cheek bones more refined. He even verbally 'spars' with his Papa & I, exchanging adult-like quips without missing a beat. Yet soon the change wasn’t so subtle… an edge of sassiness that had never been before, some backtalk, some debating & ignoring, even dashes of complaining & boredom. There also came the unintentional, yet time-honored, embarrassment that myself & my husband suddenly became -- in the car, around his friends, at the dinner table. I blinked once more & my child had morphed physically, mentally & emotionally into a teen (a tween to be exact, but the only difference I’m seeing between the two is a superfluous ‘w’).

Don’t misunderstand me—I’m completely aware that things are going just as they’re supposed to & that if a parent does his/her job well then our teenage birdies should take these next, natural steps in preparation for someday departing the nest, but it doesn’t change the fact that this Mama is struggling a bit.

I know the road ahead is going to be equal parts difficult & fulfilling, frustrating & fabulous, holding on & letting go. It’s going to be tough choices & tough love, finding oneself while getting lost, again & again. And I want you to know, Caiden, that I’m all in. I’ve tightened my seatbelt for what’s sure to be the part of the ride with the most corkscrews, twists & turns, upside down loop-de-loops & straight up big drops. My heart will surely plunge into my stomach a time or two, but I’ll always & forever be all in.

Have patience with me as your train gently chugs down that old familiar track. I liked it there, it was a comfortable place I knew & loved & will miss deeply. Trust that I’ll jump on board the new train very soon… I just need to let go of this ‘last’ as graciously as I can. Look for me blowing you kisses, watching from tear-blurred eyes as your train rounds the bend & out of sight. Look for me, too, shifting to enthusiastically welcome that shiny, unfamiliar train that’s now entering the station…