Getting my heart and head on the same page

Could someone tell me when I’m going to stop crying? Please?

Since he was a toddler, Sean and I have told Michael, “When you graduate from high school, you will go to college. Then you will graduate from college and go on to lead a grown-up life, which will hopefully include a wife for you and grandchildren for us.”

Michael is now 17 years old. He is a senior. He is going to graduate, assuming his math class doesn’t kill him. And all that talk of, “You’ll graduate and go to college,” sunk in for him. He applied to and was accepted at a school where he will study Automotive Marketing and Management (has there ever been a more perfect major for anyone?). He’s excited. Sean’s excited. I am excited in theory. In reality, not so much. Because all the times I said, “you will graduate and go to college,” I never thought about how the Mommy in me would feel about him actually graduating and going to college.

I was at church on Sunday and someone asked what Michael’s plans are for next year. Before I could even get out the word, "college," I felt tears burning my eyes. Last week, Michael asked me to sign his dorm housing form and I burst into tears.  I’m crying now just typing about it. And I’m not talking about tearing up; this is full-on, blubbering like a baby, bawling my eyes out, snot coming out my nose, crying. And I can’t stop it. Can. Not. Stop. It.

I realize going to college is a perfectly normal step – an 18 year old almost-man moving on with his life – but somewhere along the line my head forgot to tell my heart that my baby son going to college is a good thing.

Thing is, I really am happy for him. He knows what he wants to do, has found a school that specializes in it, and he’s going there. He is going to do just fine, nay, great! I know this. I know this! And this is exactly what we’ve trained him to do! But my heart is having a very difficult time getting with the program.

And I’m crying again.

Y’all, all this crying has to stop. It’s bordering on the ridiculous now. The kids are mocking me. Sean’s ready to send me off to the funny farm. I’m seriously considering having my tear ducts surgically sealed so I can get through the graduation ceremony without oceans pouring down my face.

I have 14 weeks to get my act together. Fourteen weeks. Pretty sure if I asked a Magic 8 Ball if I will be able to 86 the tears, it would say, "Outlook not so good."