Monday was my oldest son’s last day of high school. Friday night he will graduate. Thus I have spent the last few days in a mad cleaning frenzy, a vain attempt to both ignore my sinking sadness as well as get my house in some sort of shape before the happy descent of friends and family at our post-graduation celebration.
I feel as if I ought to insert something profound here, a moving reflection on my son and the man he has become or perhaps a poignant observation regarding the quick passage of time and my mothering journey. Not gonna happen, not because I don’t have anything to say about either of those things, but rather I don’t have it in me to say it now. Now I am rushing around, dust rag in one hand, the ever-growing to-do list in the other. I am thinking about party menus and where to hide our junk and if three gallons of tea should be enough. I am ironing for awards programs and the baccalaureate service and worrying over what I should wear to the commencement ceremony. Not only that but in my non-graduation life I am still packing lunches and doing laundry (always and forever) and navigating car line and sending money and permission forms for field trips.
It’s May, with the usual May-hem, but more so.
When I pause, I ponder the last’s that have marked these past few months and I find much joy in all the many blessings the Lord has granted to us. I am sad, yes, but of course. I think that it cannot be, him graduating and growing up and moving away, but then I think that yes, it can be and it is and it is happy and joyous and exciting. These last’s are a first for us and the uncertainty and the approaching transition do leave me apprehensive and wistful. However it is not a sadness of despair or despondency but a nostalgia marked mostly by joy, so much joy, and gratitude, so much gratitude, to the Lord, the Giver of all good things, the faithful God who is sufficient in our now’s and our tomorrows.