I Get It Now

Grace is leaving for her senior year at college today and there's a sadness that has settled over me again.

It's not that I don't want her to return to her life at school.  Her university experience has been so fulfilling for her.  We've seen her grow in her craft, thrive in the environment where noble ideas and deep friendships abide well, and mature as a young woman, growing more confident every day.  We wanted this for her.  And we are so grateful to God.

The same thing happened to me when Emma came and went during college.  Seeing her for brief moments felt like archiving snapshots of her transition from youth to adulthood.  Now thriving in her profession in Chicago, we see more clearly how the trajectory of her life taking shape in college continues to direct her path.  When we get the chance to see her, watching her perform makes us marvel over whence and whither.

You'd think Andrew being closer in Kansas City would work like a balm for our hearts.  When we see him in his element, hearing reports of his literary life, the community he's found that nurture the arts--well, we can't help but celebrate the grace of God.  Whenever we spend the day with him and Sabra, it feels like we're trying to squeeze in months of longing into brief moments of splendor.

Time keeps moving and we keep trying to soak it all up.

Now I recognize what I saw in my mother's eyes every time we packed up for home after a brief visit.  It always took a while to gather up our stuff, corral the kids, quickly say our "goodbyes" before hitting the road.  After the ritual of "letting your mom kiss you on the cheek," I'd briefly look at her, turning my eyes quickly away knowing what I'd see every time:  the look of disappointment.  I resented it a little at the time.  It seemed to me she was trying to hold on to what was already gone--a denial of sorts that life moves on.

Now I get it.  For all the joy of seeing your adult children find their place in the world, there's still a twinge of heart ache knowing things will never be the same.  And that's the way it's supposed to be because that's the way it's always been.

Which is why I wish I could tell my mom, "I get it now."