This week marked the graduation from High School of our oldest son and the last week of elementary school for our youngest. I find myself conflicted with pride at their achievements, fear for their futures and the wish that I could make them both 6 years old again and do it all over. I will miss walking to the bus with Tom. He is completely capable of, and has been doing it by himself for some time; he has a key and a phone and a reasonable amount of common sense. He has no real need of his dad at the bus stop, but I do it because I am holding on to him as a kid. I know the time of him spontaneous grabbing of my hand when crossing the street is long over, but I will miss that feeling more than anything that I have ever lost. There is no way he will allow my presence at the bus stop next year. He will be in middle school, with all the hormonal imbalance and social cannibalism that leave young lives briefly wrecked or exalted. His public facing, small child phase is all but done. I know he will still be a kid, and prone to to emotional outbursts and in need of comfort at home but the facade will be firmly in place by then. It isn't cool to have dad meet your bus to a sixth grader.
Ned is facing the reality of his next step into adulthood, college at the University of Washington with a certain degree of non committal, willful ignorance that is the hallmark of self preservation in hostile environments. I hope we instilled in him the discipline to stick with the hard times and see the important things through the maze of stupid, insignificant trials that await him.
We love these people God has loaned us for a few years. I will miss their childhoods. I wish I had made their experiences more interesting and their achievements more satisfying, but they never went hungry, always had a roof over their heads and were always loved. It will soon be their time on earth. And we will still love them as much as we did when they were children.
