Putting a Cork in It

I don't cry that much but when I do I can't seem to put a cork in it.

Tonight, after bathing the kids, I pressed my face hard into a blue terry bath towel still tugging on its hook - trying to slow down a trail of tears spilling down my chin.

Grayson starts kindergarten tomorrow. 

He is ready, eager, and bubbling over behind those big brown eyes with excitement for the new school.  I know he will do great, I'm not worried about his first day of school going poorly.  I just didn't expect to feel so sad tonight.

When I ask myself why I'm crying I cannot come up with the truth.

The truth is somewhere between love, time, letting go, and pride. 

I am so proud of my son who has more compassion in one expression than I can conjure up in an entire lifetime.  He has given us perspective with his "Buddhisms" and ability to connect with things beyond this space.

"Who is older, Mommy - You are Daddy?"

"I am, Honey.  I beat him by 10 days."

"So you will go before Daddy because you will grow older first.  What happens to whales and sea animals when they get old?  Do they stay in the water?  They are already in the water and water means life."

"Well, Honey.  Sometimes whales end up back on the beach if they get hurt, sometimes I guess they don't."

"Yeah.  I forgot, everything goes back some day.  We all go back."

Go back.  I don't really know what he means but holy smokes does he have me curious.  Go back.  

So you see these tears don't make sense.  I cry because he is still so little even though he looks eight (my grandfather's long legs).

 

I cry because he has a new backpack and a new T-shirt he picked out because it looked "boy cool."

I cry because he is the only one around here who laughs at my jokes.  And we have kickass impromptu ninja fights in the middle of a hike.

(Don't worry, I threw that shirt away after viewing these pics. wth?  I bet you're more worried about the pants.  Nope, keeping those bad boys.  Lots of kick room.)

I cry because he is so good with his sister.  What in the WORLD am I going to do with her from 9-4?!  We don't even like each other.  Oh we love each other tons, we just have trouble always appreciating each others perspective on you know, life.

 

I cry because he picked out leaves for me tonight during our leaf painting extravaganza. 

 

Then endured the driveway paintfest just because he knew Daddy needed a study break.

 (And let me take pictures of him even though he'd rather eat alfalfa sprouts.)

 

I cry because he loves cheese but not the color red anymore.  His new favorite is green. 

 

I cry because his hair stands up on the very top of his head no matter how wet the washcloth.

 

 

I cry because 4 o'clock is a long time away from 9 o'clock and so close to dinner time.  What ever happened to half-day kindergarten?

 

I cry because he did this when I asked him to show me his very first tooth that he pulled himself when I was pretending to be a midwife.

 (Look in the background to the left.  Even Sadie seems concerned.)

My tears don't stop because I'm scared of what's next: all the things I can't see, predict, control, protect, warn, comfort, soothe, and love away when I am here and he is somewhere else.

This is my first rodeo. 


I miss him so much already and he's not even gone.



But he's going.

And I have to put a cork in it and let him enjoy the ride.