Seasons of Change

I know many mothers who long for their children to leave home and go to college or on to the next stage of their life. 

I am not one of those mothers. As difficult as our adoption years have been I still do not want my kids gone until it is their time.

It is my oldest son's time.

It is my oldest daughter's time.

I rejoice with them.

I am proud of them.

I delight in them.

Yet I mourn in a way I never quite imagined.

There is a death to our way of life, the composition of our family and the dailiness of our routines.

Their lives are no longer entwined with mine.
No observations of their activities, their friends, their dreams.

To those who wonder if I'm "too attached" the answer is probably yes.

I like knowing my children are safe in their own beds at night.

These young adults don't "owe" me a check-in or an attendance record.

Yet I will always desire knowing all is well and hearts are secure, dreams alive and life lived to its fullest. 

I'm not regretting things left undone or wishing to change their world.

I merely want to be part of it, however that looks.

In my heart there is the awareness of time quickly passing and life changing without a way to harness the moments.

This is my season of change.

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