Someone was at the door. I must have been napping. I woke up and went down to see my husband Jeff bringing our two sons home from school. Dillon was excited, jumping up and down telling me about his day. He must have been six. Close on his heels was Charlie at eight. I scooped both boys up in my arms and spun them around telling them how much I missed them. And then I woke up. My boys are no longer six and eight. They are 16 and 18.

It was just a dream.

Change is hard. Dillon laughed at my dream when I was telling him about it during the drive to school. “You are having a midlife crisis Mom. You wish we were still little kids and we aren’t.”

He’s right. I do sometimes wish that. I miss the little boy days.

Dropping Charlie off at college was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. We loaded up our pick up truck and his car and drove him to Oklahoma Christian University on August 23. I walked into the prison cell of a dorm room and almost cried. I stuffed down that impulse by giving orders, spraying everything down with lysol, putting stuff away and making note of what else he would need. Then we went to lunch.

I did pretty good. Right up until we got back and we had to say goodbye. I couldn’t go back in the room. I knew if I set one more foot in that dorm, I’d lose it right then and there.  Not wanting to embarass my child with Niagra Falls Ala Mom, I hugged him in the parking lot and let Jeff and Dillon walk him back to his room.

My hand reached out and touched the handle of my pick up truck. I opened the door, climbed in and cried my heart out. Jeff, Dillon and I drove the hour and a half treck back to Broken Arrow in strange silence. Dillon was hyper focused on his PSP and pretended that dust kept getting in his eyes. Dad drove. Mom cried on and off.

I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I blinked. And I cried. I cried the first time I set the table for three; when I walked past his room; when I folded laundry and his clothes weren’t in it; when I drove Dillon to school alone; when I went to a soccer game that he wasn’t playing in; when I stalk his page on facebook looking for an update; when I hang up the phone after he called on  my birthday. And I cried this morning when I realised it was Friday and he’s coming home for a visit this weekend.

He’s having a blast in college, and I know that we are still a family no matter where we all are and we always will be.

Letting go, is just part of life. And I know that while I let go, God hangs on.

I’m curious, how do you let go when it’s time to let them fly?