I mean, it is just a normal, busy Tuesday. It’s not like it’s Graduation Day, or the day to move my oldest daughter, who just turned 15 this summer, into college. It’s just a Tuesday in the beginning to middle of her Sophomore year. No big deal. But for months, I have the tight throat.
You know…when all of a sudden, you see before your eyes the years in the making of a girl who is not far from spreading those wings. You see that fervor and that drive in her eyes. You see only so many more sleepy Saturday mornings or summer vacations together. You see she finally sees a life beyond this life and a home beyond this home, and you’re happy–I mean, you truly are happy–but you also feel the tears constrict the throat and that means one thing.
It means the hands are going to have to loosen. On a Tuesday, I practice. I practice now, perhaps my suffering will be decreased to the tiniest degree if I practice now? Before the Graduation, before the college move-in day, before we turn around and leave without her in the car…before the white gown and the life she forms entirely of her (and God’s) own desire and plan.
Ouch! It hurts.
First dates. First jobs. It’s happening.
The child that has pulled my hair and sang me songs and made me laugh. That child. That one that I knew was never mine, but it sure has felt like she was.
Tight throat, loose hands. I will be brave. Won’t fear pain. Will dive in. Will experience it all with joy. Will be thankful. Will live in the now. Won’t block the tears. Won’t clench the hands.
Won’t block the tears. Won’t clench the hands.
