Swirling on the Brink of Nostalgia

I have a high school senior this year- graduating- doing all the things that senior year allows—sleeping late, hanging with friends, eating whenever he wants regardless of time, remembering only what is essential, and forgetting all the rest.

Days flow into nights, with the singular focus of having the best time possible without any awareness that the passage of time is swift.

We were all away this weekend with my entire extended family (that’s about 22 give or take), and my younger son asked us on the way there if we could go home on Sunday- he wanted to come home and be with his friends. 

My older son looked at him, with the wisdom of this year behind his eyes, and answered “Let’s just see how we feel.” This happened without me having to argue and preach the importance of family. My younger one took in his older brother and said- “ok- I’ll do that.”    

So, what am I learning from this year?  

As I settle into my perch and watch my oldest child live through one of life's most profoundly important times, his last year under our roof- I am reflecting on what I am being taught.

I, too, remember that year vividly. I remember the smells and feelings. I remember the experience of being carefree, young, and content.  I remember my friends, and I know I am still defined by how we explored our world together in those years.

I find myself fighting back against the urge to dwell on the nostalgia created by the passage of time. 

So many people ask me - How are you doing?  Are you ready to have one leave the nest? Yet, I am resistant to thinking about him leaving this way.

Am I ready to have my child leave? No. Probably never.

I will never be prepared to have my kids go. I love them and feel better when they are close to me. But- something is being evoked. All of a sudden-  I am learning from my carefree son.

I admire seeing him in his life right now. I love his sense of relaxation and joy. Watching it is waking up a piece of me—a part that has been dropped as I have become overly focused on adulting and hyperaware of timelines and consequences.

We take life so seriously. I am acutely aware that there are big things out there, and life is complex, but I am re-prioritizing the need to feel my freedom (if we are able to have it).

Surprisingly, instead of mourning him, I am emulating him. I am learning from his pace, his lack of intensity, and his simple contentment in the here and now. I am choosing to hang out with him and have it be easy and fluid instead of figuring out what is happening next.

I am letting myself enjoy life and allowing myself to be in it instead of planning and anticipating it. 

I don’t delude myself about the depth and emotionality of this time, the significance and milestone of this change. And there is no doubt I will have incomprehensible emotions when I close the car door after I drop him off. But I just can’t go there quite yet.

For now- I am going to try to hold on to this piece of me that feels free. To allow myself this in-between moment.

As I have read and written about, I am paying attention to the in-between moments because that is where life lives.

I am unfocused on the ceremonies, events, and picture-taking. I am breathing in the experiences, the car rides, waking up a little later, and not getting stressed if there is no plan. I am sinking into the in-between and enjoying the ride.

Give it a try—what is your in-between moment right now?