Tangible Evidence

It's inevitable...come the first and last day of school, I walk around with a huge lump in my throat and can shed a tear at the drop of a hat. It makes me feel completely unhinged and like a total nut! I've noticed this pattern for the past two years. It's the same feeling I had when I went back to work, when Loulie turned one, the first time I dropped her off at Sunday School without her even acknowledging my leaving---the feeling that time is passing to quickly. That I will never get to relive this stage with this child again. That Loulie will never ride past the church that houses her preschool again shouting "schkoul! Loulie schkoul!" I have a hard time with it, this tangible evidence that she is getting older. This date on the calendar that says "you can never go back." It's a strange and unexpected form of grief.
At small group tonight I asked for prayer over this feeling, knowing that the next two days will be difficult for me. I mean who likes feeling sad? I felt a little ridiculous though expressing this grief considering one couple has a severely disabled child and another has a niece diagnosed with a rare disease among other issues. So yeah, Lauren, grief? Over your healthy, growing child moving on up in the world? It's hardly seems to qualify as something to get upset over. But I look at it as a blessing--that this time has been so precious that it is hard to let it go. That motherhood has been such a surprising joy that I don't want it to go by so quickly.  I'm so thankful for the friends and teachers and time we have had together this 3 year old year. I know not all school years may go as well and I'm thankful that our last year at John Wesley will be a sweet memory.
My friend, Lee, who thinks so similar to me sent me this article after I got home from small group tonight making me feel a little less ridiculous about these uncontrollable emotions I have going on. I love it! And it speaks to this moment so perfectly. I guess I am not quite alone in wanting stop time.
"Yes, time flies.
But I don’t want to stop it. I want to climb on its back and soak up every inch of the scenery. I want to drink in the laughter, the tears, the soccer games, the visits to the ER, the blues skies and the torrential rains that this world has to offer. For when the cosmic clock is finally grounded, I will climb off its back, grateful for the wild and wonderful (full-of-wonder) ride."
So I will tearfully walk her in one last time on Thursday, go early to get a seat for their year end performance and probably take way too many pictures, all the while soaking in the gifts of this good life of being her mother. Thankful for another good year and knowing by Friday that summer excitement will have me far over this momentary grief.

Full Grown 3Ker