My firstborn leaves in two weeks. TWO. I'm trying to be ready. Trying to prepare. My heart seizes up often though.
Tonight, as his sister complained about dreading starting school tomorrow, he said without hesitation, "want me to take you... for old time's sake? I'll get up early and take you." I had to look away. My eyes were filling.
That's happening a lot lately. As they helped me wash dishes tonight, they were cracking each other up. They have mind-meld despite their nearly 3 years age difference... it's like they speak another language. They were doing these weird poses and just howling with laughter. Then William, true to form, broke out into the "sprinkler" dance. You know the one? I think it's older than I am. And Frog said, "man, I'm going to miss that... no more walking out of my room to my brother breaking out the sprinkler for no good reason." Cue the tears again.
This weekend, as we took our annual Labor Day vacation together as a family, I had a lot of those moments. He helped me pack and unpack, clean and cook. William has become the consummate helper. He ALWAYS asks if he can help... with dinner, with dishes, with chores, whatever. He doesn't want me and/or Jason just having to do it. I've become used to "what can I help you do before I head to (fill in activity here... the gym, out with friends, whatever). This weekend, we walked to the beach together and I watched him swimming in that ridiculously cold Oregon water until I had to join him. It wasn't all that cold, he was right. And as we climbed out and it starting pouring rain, the laughter as we hiked up back to the vacation house about how we were already too wet to feel the damn rain was priceless. Shelling POUNDS of crab together when we got home. All of it... I wanted it to last forever.
I find myself frantically grabbing onto the memories like trying to pull too many marbles to you, but your arms can't hold them all. The first time I took him to a little league game - we didn't know anyone, but there was that beautiful stadium and all my toddler wanted to do was watch the boys play. So we walked into the ballpark, got hot dogs and sat and watched strangers play baseball. His look of joy when a little breakfast plate I made him announced in icing that he had made Rookie Majors. His brave little face when he got stitches at a mere 3 years old. His sweet bravery at not-quite-7 years old as he had to run for help because an unknown ovarian cyst burst inside me, his Dad was in Vegas, and I needed to get to the hospital. How he made his tiny sister laugh and would sit on the floor with her during her "tummy time" just so she would stick to it. His trying out flag football and tackle football, one time impressing the Oregon Ducks coach with his passing ability despite being one of the shortest on the team. Watching him become the "play every position player" one year in baseball when he LITERALLY played every single position in one season. Watching him learn to pitch and then having him try to teach me. Seeing him tutor his sisters. Going to the Gaming contest to see him present his first video game design. Being inspired by a devotion to get in shape. Watching him go to his school formals, meeting his amazing friends as he hosted D&D nights or game nights at our house. Seeing him grow into this funny, creative, brilliant, inspiring, loving young man.
I know in two weeks, I'll feel a little lost and a little broken for a while. He's the first to leave. Thank God he's not going too far. I'll look on the bright side. He's only an hour away.
A client of mine just got back from flying to Florida to see off her son. I asked her how it was. She said, "I was fine until I drove away back to the airport." My mom has said the same. When she dropped me off at U of O, 900 miles from home, she was okay... until she left. So my client said, she reached out to a friend while bawling her eyes out and her friend said (because this is her one an only, so she's now an "empty nester"), "Don't think of it in terms of emptying. You're not an empty nest, you're a bird launcher." My client said, although William is the first to leave, for me to think of it the same way. Every time one more flies away, don't think of it in negative terms, it's not about THEM leaving. It's about us successfully launching a beautiful bird so we can watch them fly.
Bird launching. Yeah, let's go with that. He's an amazing, amazing man. It will be a beautiful launch.
There will still be tears, I know.
But I will learn to celebrate the "bird launching."
