Have you ever finished a big project? Do you remember that feeling when you realized it was out the door and, good, bad, or ugly, it was done.
I feel that way today. Maybe my son Nick isn’t quite grown, you’d tell me. Maybe he’s still living at home and not within his own means, you’d say, but he graduated last Friday, I would reply to you. I watched as he tossed that mortarboard cap into the air, as it confettied with the caps of elated students. I saw the joy on his face. Or was it relief? I want to think that whatever he chooses to do from this point is his own business and my job has become to watch, to cheer for his success and ache for his heartbreak. Well, and maybe throw money in his direction for a while longer.
He sits on the couch right now, exhausted. I figure he needs a week to absorb it all. I know I do—struggling with a challenging schedule, missing all his finals in January when he had the flu, working to catch up, applying to college, getting accepted, feeling the fear when his Calculus teacher miscalculated grades and they just looked so terrible, and rushing at the end to a lovely prom, to the pomp of graduation walk, to all night grad night, and then to all the parties in celebration.
I hope I don’t get started thinking what I should have done differently for Nick. It’s easy for a mom to get lost on that path. I’m too damned tired, too damned tired.
Now, we have summer. We can sleep in, float for a while, just go to work and not much else, soak in the sunshine, shop for his move to a dorm room, transfer his credits, send a transcript, take him to orientation at the college.
Oh God, I have a lot to do before August comes. I’m not ready. This isn’t the end. It’s just a lull. Crap!
Thank you for listnening, jules