The fall of Michael’s senior year of high school, we were gearing up for his graduation. We were preparing transcripts and applying to colleges and sending out save-the-graduation-date cards to family members all around the country. And with each task I cried, sometimes just a tear or two, other times I was overcome with emotion and couldn’t stop the flood.
Fast-forward two years and we’re playing the same game with Amy. Transcripts, college applications, graduation planning – the whole nine yards. Oh, and the crying. Still lots of crying.
People told me the second time around would be much less emotional because I’d know what to expect. Those people are ridiculous; the second time around has been just as emotional, if not more, precisely because I do know what to expect. She’ll be at school, and I won’t be. And sometimes that thought hits me at unfortunate times. Like when we’re having new friends over for dinner.
Last weekend, I invited a new family from church over. They are new to our area and to homeschooling, so we were talking about all the options Lansing has to offer homeschoolers. They said they were being careful to not overschedule their sons in this first year of this new schooling venture. Very wise – wish I knew how to think like that… Anyway, I told them about a class Amy teaches and that they should really consider that for next year.
Sean, Rebecca and Amy all looked at me like I’d lost my mind. And then it hit me. Amy won’t be here next year.
I’m crying just typing that.
I made that, “Try not to cry even though it’s a losing battle,” face. I tried really hard to hold back the tears. I should know by now that I’m incapable of that. So, in front of these new people, who, up to that point, thought I was a nice, normal person, I cried like a baby.
Yep. Crying again.