Go Boldly Into The Feelings, Parents...

I missed Senior Awards last night. Scrolling through social media this morning was a bad idea. You know how they - the wise people of FB - say that we shouldn't compare, we should CONNECT through social media? Well, that's all nice and dandy until you miss a milestone and then feel the harsh pangs of guilt while scrolling through everyone else's pictures. (Disclaimer: I'm a little emotional about ALL the things. Hoping to process here. Writing = Therapy.)

Sorry...I digress...last night was Senior Awards night and I couldn't make it. My husband was obviously there but he couldn't stay the whole time since he had to take care of other children and a bed-ridden wife. But he was there for her special moment. He assured me that I shouldn't feel guilty and that I shouldn't be sad because I've been to ALL THE THINGS. Nonetheless, sad, sappy, sick girl remained.

Here's the thing, well, one of the things. I still can't entirely wrap my head around the fact that my first born, my little girl - once lover of all things pink, watcher of Bear and the Big Blue House (I absolutely ADORED the singing moon Luna!), consumer of salami and cheese like a true Italian, singer of Sara Hickman, reader of Angelina Ballerina, and NOW, lover of all things bohemian, watcher of too much Netflix, consumer of mass quantities of Starbucks, singer of country music, lover of Jesus and HTYM, but STILL my baby - is finishing high school. How did that happen?

I don't know about you, but lately, I turn into a bucket of tears just folding her laundry, or walking down the street (she used to stop and crunch every.single.crunchy.leaf.), or hearing her voice mail memo when she doesn't pick up. In his defense, Michael has been making LOTS of space for my emotions and he's been very sensitive. So last night, I know he was trying to make me feel better when he gently pointed out that, due to my PITA vertigo, I looked a tad bit like a heroin addict and would likely embarrass our daughter if I showed up to awards, walking like a zombie+looking like a junkie. In truth, I haven't even been able to walk to the bathroom without nearly falling over so he was right. It was better if I just didn't.

But I couldn't stop thinking about the moment when our daughter, our about-to-fly-the-coop daughter, had her name called and I didn't hear it. Walked up to the stage and I didn't cheer for her. Smiled full of pride and I didn't capture it. (Torture...I'm good at torturing myself.) I really wanted to do all of those things. But I couldn't. And I was still connected to the moment - the LAST of all awards ceremonies - emotionally. And that's my issue.

What it comes down to is that I missed out on a moment. A moment that mattered to me, that I wanted to store for all eternity in my memory, along with all of the other important moments. Because they are fleeting these days. And even though sometimes she's an emotional, snarky, impatient, eye-rolling teenager, even as she practices her independence and it breaks my heart a little, I know I don't have many more milestones that I get to witness first-hand, front-row, camera-clicking, heart-swelled, knowing that I had some small part in getting her there. Because soon, there will be so many important moments that she'll be experiencing all on her own, that I won't even know about until she shares them with me. From a distance. As it's meant to be.

Moms and dads with kids leaving for college, it's okay for us to feel the sorrow for the future moments we're about to miss. The important thing is that we don't forget to embrace all the RIGHT NOW moments. Let's soak in the celebration, be present in the prepping, and see them, memorize their features and squeeze them tight every chance we get. These are the memories that we will treasure when the house feels empty, the texts come less often, and our babies bravely chart their own paths. Even though they won't see us, we'll be praying for them and cheering them on through it all.

Go boldly into the emotions friends, know you're not alone. Come over...maybe some vodka+LaCroix will help, (when the spinning stops). I'll hold your hand as you tell me all the things your dear one has accomplished and we'll learn how to navigate this new stage together.

Sending love and strength from my couch.


By the way, when Bella got home last night, I climbed out of my bed and into hers and told her how sad I was that I missed the event. I told her that she is so so LOVED, even though I might've been the only parent in all of Tesoro that didn't make it. And finally, I told her that I was so, SO proud of her. Then I gave her a great big hug. She hugged me back, told me she understood and said that I really shouldn't leave the house looking the way I did..."Zombie Mom". We laughed, and I'm going to hold onto the humor instead of what I missed. Thank you writing-therapy!!

Holly and Jenn

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