“There Goes My Life”…Because Kenny Chesney Just Gets It
by Anita DiGregory
Can someone please answer this question for me?
Why?
Why? WHY do the months of January and February seem to drag on for what feels like an eternity, while the months of June and July speed by in the blink of an eye? I have consulted the calendar! Theoretically, they both appear to have the same amount of days in a week, same amount of hours in a day. So what is the deal with that?
I think I may have cracked the code and figured it out…at least for me, personally. See, during those winter months, I am just starting to see the proverbial light at the end of the very long, dark tunnel, and I am pushing ever so hard to reach it! However, those summer months fly at lightning speed, because no matter how much I want to live (and set up permanent shop) in denial-land, August is there waiting for me, complete with all its forms, fees, and back-to-school meetings…and then, BOOM, just like that, I am sucked back into that long, dark tunnel!
Okay, okay…it isn’t really that bleak and sinister. August isn’t really circling around me while the theme music from
Jaws plays in the background. But sometimes, especially at 3:00 a.m., when I wake in a panic, heart and mind racing, with an ever-growing “to-do” list running through my brain, it sure feels that way, maybe even more so this year.
Yup, as much as I’d like to deny it, August is upon us. With it, another little bird is about to spread her wings and leave the nest, flying northward for her freshman year. With her will go another very large chunk of my heart. It is truly one of those miracles of motherhood, that we can still walk around and function when so many pieces of our heart are missing; but that’s just what we do. We don’t have a choice.
For my husband and I, this isn’t our first ride on the “send your baby off to college” coaster, but it just doesn’t get any easier. You’d think it would! Maybe I have learned some lessons along the way (valuable lessons like: they aren’t really going to use an iron, so don’t buy them one—even if the college prep sheet lists it—and they probably aren’t going to need the biggest meal plan). Maybe I am a little more prepared for the mid-terms and finals panic calls or the homesick calls. Maybe not.
Here’s what I think I am supposed to learn. I have to learn to let them fly, which sounds good in theory, right? But letting them fly also includes all the turbulence, soaring, and crashing that come with flight. See, that is where the problem lies. I want to protect them from the falls, the mistakes, the pain. But, maybe, they learn more from their struggles than from their successes. Maybe, in trying to protect them from getting the same scars that I have, I am denying them huge life lessons that they need to succeed. Maybe, I need to pray more and trust Him more. Maybe, these are the lessons I need to learn. Problem is, I am not a very quick learner!
You know, I used to think that when I was knee-deep in diapers and completely sleep-deprived that that just had to be the hardest of times. Deep in the diaper trenches, with bags under bags under the eyes, no shower for days, and no rest in sight…there is absolutely no denying that that season of life is incredibly hard and stress-filled. But with three heading out into adulthood, this mom thing just isn’t getting any easier. I am still sleep-deprived—only now it is because I am waiting for one of them to arrive safely at home, or because I am praying for them all and all their different needs, or because I am just worrying about them. And for the most part, their struggles are a lot bigger now, their decisions carry a lot heavier consequences, their heartaches and pain generally can’t be healed with a hug and a Band-Aid anymore. Yup, this mom thing is crazy hard. I don’t know, maybe I am doing it all wrong (a haunting question I have pondered since they were babies!).
But, here’s the thing: I don’t know how to do it any differently, and I don’t think I would even if I could. They have my heart and all that comes with it (the hugs, the tears, the lectures, the scolding, the celebrating, and everything in between). And as much as it hurts to walk around with human-being sized holes in your heart, I wouldn’t do it any other way.
