Seeing Kids Leave..

I remember when I was about 17 years old and I was in the grocery store with my Dad. We were in the bread isle and I made some smart aleck comment about something and it made him really laugh. Then, I've never forgoten what he said to me next. He said, " Why is it that just when your kids turn into people you really like to be around, they leave and other people get to enjoy them?"

I know this is a subject that most everyone has had experience with at one point or another in their life. And like most points in life once you get by them, it somehow becomes old news because you've moved on to a different place and are interested in what's happening at that point in your life. So the subject of kids moving out is one I've heard a thousand times and have experienced twice, well thrice...counting yesterday. But I want to talk about it even though everyone else probably already has gone past this..but this is my blog and I can talk about what I want, right?

Caitlin left for BYU. Cait is our third child to leave home. As each one has left, we have gained more experience in how to better prepare them for the event. What to pack what not. What to say and suggest and what not to say and not suggest. But there's still that odd feeling that comes with saying good bye.

Good bye to that time in your life, that, as soon as they are gone, it will be different...even if they come back, it will still never be the same.

As I was walking back to the car alone , there was a strange sense of accomplishment, in fact, if Doug had been with me, I would have shared a high five with him as we walked out the doors. Good Job! Way to go! But then there's the other feeling. Wow. There gone. Not dead, I know...but still gone in a lot of ways. Doug called me as I was driving home to see how everything went. Then he asked me about what was happening that night, the schedules, the events, where the kids were going to be, the same conversation we have at one point during the day, just about every day. Then it hit me. All the places in my mind where Caitlin would normally be filled in there was a blank. That was weird. Then I didn't feel like a high five, instead I cried.

Parenting is such a strange occupation really. I mean, I don't have a job I get money for. I don't work for a company that recognizes my skills, rewards my hard work or gives me raises for an amazing project I completed or new clients I've recruited. I don't have certificates on my walls that show that I am a certified "something great." Yet, like yesterday, it seemed like there should have been something. Doug and I just invested 18 1/2 years of our life into that kid I just left at the airport. Where's our certificate of achievement? Why wasn't that moment announced on the loud speaker so that everyone there could break out into applause and I could get great pats on the back as I left to get in my car? Instead I forgot my parking receipt out of the Express Pay machine and was reported at the parking booth and even had my license plate numbers called in to see if I was in the habit of trying to rip off the Lindburgh Field Parking Lot on a regular basis.

So, I know... that's it. It's the way it has always gone and the way it will always be and that's OK with me. Really. I just think it is funny that the most time consuming, heart wrenching, joyful job is so common. - So common that most everyone has felt the way I did yesterday so it's just something that happens and you move on.

That's good. And I have.

Just think, only three more years and we can do it all over again.

Cool.

By the way, Doug and I did share I high five later that day, we couldn't help it, we had just accomplished something really wonderful.