There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
“Mommy, I’m ready, you know,” she excitedly proclaimed after depositing off her new school supplies in a clean desk with her name plate prominently displayed, waiting in anticipation for her to fill the seat the very next day.
“I know you are, baby,” I say, swallowing a lump and holding back tears.
And though I don’t say it out loud but the voice is deafening, I think, “But I’m not…”
Today, my baby, my firstborn, goes to school for the first time all day. I have never had to let go of her for an entire school day and I mourn and dance at the same time.
I mourn because I’m surrendering a bit of control and doing what the whole point of parenting is in the first place – letting her go into the world.
I so desire to run after her, to plead with the clock to just stop it already. I want her to be my baby and under my care all day, every day because that’s just how it’s been since she was born 6 1/2 years ago.
But it just doesn’t work that way.
And yet I dance because though I feel this way, it wouldn’t be healthy if she was still 20 years old and living with her parents. This is the deal, the inevitability we sign up for when we start to hope for the two pink lines on the pregnancy test.
We voluntarily sign up for a life of joy. But joy and pain are a package deal in this game of mothering.
So I release my grip a bit, I force myself to let go. I surrender her to You, dear Father. She is your’s anyway, not mine.
But I want to share.
Awwww I am a “MiMi” to two wonderful grandchildren, one boy who is 5 and one girl who is 2 1/2. One will be starting Kindergarten this year and the other will be going to three day a week preschool. I have babysat them both for their mothers ever since their maternity leaves were up!!
I can TOTALLY empathize with you, and I understand how much you just want to stop the clock and have “just a little more time” with them at home with us only because we know from here on out they will be sharing their little worlds with newcomers, the teacher and all of the new friends they meet!! :) :)
Sending Best Wishes for a Successful Happy Year at school for your sweet little girl and I along with my daughters will be fighting back tears next Monday when my favorite babies start school!!
Oh Miss Natalie! How beautifully said how our ‘Momma hearts’ ache when we have to release our grip on our darlings.
As an ’empty nester’ there are days when I wish I could go to their house often and just give them a big hug/kiss just because I miss them. With my youngest in Chicago now, it makes it even more challenging. I don’t get to see him often enough. They have their own lives now……but I still miss them and still have that desire to hold them in a long hug……
It gets easier Miss Natalie, but the longing will always be there.
Love
Lana
Now, seriously, what is wrong with keeping them forever? ;)
It’s hard, isn’t it? This letting go thing just stinks. I sent my oldest off to his last year of elementary school this morning, and although it wasn’t as difficult as sending him off to public school for the first time (last year), it still hurts a bit. That whole growing-up-and-leaving creeps closer, and each school year is a reminder of our limited time. Which I’ve decided is a good thing. I need to be reminded that this season is short and give thanks for the time we have!
There’s a great children’s book by Karen Kingsbury I love called “Let Me Hold You Longer.” It’s a tear-jerker, but it’s a reminder to hold each moment as a gift for that letting go happens a little at a time.
Hi Natalie. We met at the park the other day through Lauren. I’m glad to have found your blog…somehow…through someone else on fb. Anyhow… loved reading your About page, and this post really hit home for me.
“Letting go” is the toughest act of love. (I remember my Mom telling me that years ago, and saying someday I’d understand.) I know that too well by experience, and though I’ve had to let go in different situations, it works in the same way with different people/situations. My kiddos are still too small (3 and 1) but soon enough I know I will be in that same place you’ve now found yourself: letting go of my little ones to face the world and become more independent. And someday, we’ll have to let them go even farther… to college, and then successively let them fly away and make their own nests and families. Isn’t it ironic though, that is exactly what we all did? The story just repeats itself over and over. We just have to be accepting of the circle of life, and of God’s paths and will for each and everyone of us.
I also write my own blog http://www.sassybutterfly.com, though the latest entries have not been posted because I’m like 4 mths behind, and everything’s sitting in my drafts…
Our oldest goes to Kindergarten this year… I’m feeling your same LUMP!
Love you,
Traci @ Ordinary Inspirations
My oldest is in all day kindergarten this year, and his baby sister is in half day Pre-K. I didn’t cry when we dropped him off with his teacher, but watching my baby girl go was tough! I cried all the way to the truck!