I am watching from afar and wondering what it feels like to push your baby bird from the nest.
I notice the careful details in dorm rooms, lights have been strung, pillows have been monogrammed and beds are neatly made for the last time.
I admire the bright smile of the woman whose arm is holding her not so little person a little too tightly.
I am in awe of your ability to let go, throw caution to the wind and swallow the fears that must ride on your mothering heart.
I understand how time really does fly by and though we've got a half dozen more years at my house, I can imagine that day.
I am knee deep in motherhood and your bravery tells me to hold tighter, complain less and laugh more often.
I hear the silence in your texts and notice the lump in your throat, the way you are trying to grin and bear it.
I know you're wondering what the absence will feel like and if the silence will be too loud.
I acknowledge this is a huge life change that mothers of little people don't understand, but we want to and we'll listen.
I think dropping your person off at college must feel like a bittersweet victory.
I watch my oldest boy lead his siblings through the world and I think about how it will be my turn in six more years.
For you, I’ll try not to wish for a quiet house and a day where chaos no longer reigns.