I never know when the tears will be triggered. Tissues are always at my ready and sunglasses are a key accessory to hide those red eyes in case I can’t gulp my emotions down fast enough. Unexpectedly, this summer ensued a sense of denial that settled in like a midnight intruder as I attempt to grasp the speed in which the years have flown by. It seems like just last summer, my days were filled with splash pads, library story times, ice cream dates and hours at the playground with plenty of naps in between. Bed times always started with piles of storybooks whose pages became tattered and words easily recited. As soon as I kissed them goodnight after multiple trips to the kitchen to retrieve them sips of water, I slumped into the couch after a physically exhausting day of ensuring they were living those wholesome childhood memories to the fullest.

My early motherhood days I carried my babies around, their squeezes ever so tight and in those moments, I never knew when would be the last of their little arms outstretched to be picked up, or they would tightly hold my hand…until one day, it just stops. Now, a new reality is looming of college applications, SAT prep, campus visits, and with that the lasts of many: last homecoming, last first day of school when I see her off, last cross-country season, last trip to the pumpkin patch, last piano recital, last, last, last…. The most difficult words to hear are campus dorms and it’s because soon enough I know she won’t be in her bedroom upstairs, on the couch lounging, pulling into the driveway after school or hang outs with friends, or in the kitchen pouring her heart out to me as I make dinner. Thoughts flood my mind as I question, did we do enough, how many more lessons do we need to teach her this year, what more memories do we need to make, all while saying a prayer for time to slow down. I have faith she’ll be ready to venture on her own life journey and those lessons and memories will come organically, but the reality stings of launching our baby girl.

So, in an effort to deeply appreciate every second, this summer has been naturally slow and intentional. Honestly, the beginning of June I excitedly assumed longer days in the kitchen of cooking and baking and I couldn’t wait. Then the first morning of summer break hit and my kids asked me to sit down with them during breakfast. (Mind you, breakfast was on teenage time, so 10:00am, if not later.) There was no rushing, just enjoying the slower pace that comes with the school holidays. That day passed with contentment of just being, conversations flowing, with no rigid schedule holding us accountable. Leisurely afternoon walks, followed by late dinners and dining outside were all perfect. So perfect, we just kept repeating those days and treasuring each easygoing moment, knowing very well there is an impending date next summer when my family will start a new chapter as our oldest goes off to college.

Of course, she will come home on holidays and Facetime is only a quick click, but I’m mourning the mere anticipation of losing the in-person, day-to-day. I was close to both my mom and grandma and my relationship with my daughter echoes that bond. Like an open book, life’s joys, pains, fears – all are shared and at various volumes and tones, but equally embraced and navigated. Time passes so quickly of a life of firsts, many seemingly insignificant and others grandiose milestones. As a parent, one can hope they were sufficient to build a strong foundation for our children, inviting continued growth with their own experiences outside of our homes.  Life is beautiful in the time we share with our kids, but it never seems long enough as time is truly a thief.

My husband and I are excited for her, especially as she begins to narrow down the college choices and area of study. Her brother is possibly facing the biggest denial of us all, as they share a brotherly/sisterly connection that warrants the title of best friends who share laughter, happiness, anger, secrets, accomplishments, insecurities, competition and plenty of arguments. When the lights turn off each night, their late-night chats ensue and invites my momma heart to peacefully fall asleep. As the closest of siblings, the absence of those conversations alone will be a gaping hole, but one we hope he fills with memories of their sweet relationship. Our traditional Friday afternoon happy hours will shrink and I hope is a tradition that she takes with her, and maybe even one day, she’ll return home for them with her plus one and eventually her family. So, as I face the year of lasts, I remind myself that change does not discriminate. But, believe that with it comes the beauty of opportunity for growth and with that, our next chapter will carry a new world of firsts.