Wednesday, September 1, 2021

The Middle Child Has Left the Building


"But for those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." ~ Isaiah 40:31

        To our dearest gentle giant! Ever since the day that you made your grand appearance into this world your dad and I joked about the day that you would be 18 and we could boot you out into the wild. That clearly was the round the clock feedings, sleep deprivation and energy zapped nonsense talking. It has been a heavy and emotionally draining, but joyful week. I have tried to hold my breath many times as to perhaps make time stand still this last week of having you home. Just wanting to have you home for one more day, a couple more weeks or several more months. As we prepared to drive you cross country to drop you off at college I couldn't explain the mixture of emotions I was having. Basically I was full steam ahead on the Hot Mess Express. Probably showed just how much of a mess I was when we had to reroute 7 times going through Dallas. I'm sure you were praying for Jesus to take the wheel. πŸ˜† A simple text from a friend asking what day you where leaving had me scrambling for something to wipe my tears. Last week as your dad and I made a trip to the grocery store, our stomaches fell to the pits of our knees thinking we didn't need to "stock" up on food for the moose. We left the store in a somber daze even though your dad has been waiting for the day his wallet would get a little heavier. However, that weight comes with a little absence in our home. Okay okay we may not have been as prepared for your flying of the coop as we thought we were all this time. I miss you. Not just the Mason you are now that is 700 miles and three states away. I miss the baby I would hold in my arms and who would eat around the clock. I miss the little toddler that would run around in his superhero undies and cape and the sound of the pitter patter of your tiny feet across the kitchen floor. I miss the the crazy whit of the five year old who would make my belly hurt from laughing. 


           All that missing you was bound to rear its head so, I am sorry not sorry for the waterworks malfunction as we said our "see ya laters." You know I tried hard not to be "that mother." At least family weekend isn't until October so by then everyone will have forgotten about the psycho sobbing mother who had to be escorted off campus by security. πŸ˜‚ Just kidding I did contain myself quite well. It was the drive to the hotel and the drive home the next day that I had no containment. Just driving by a field of cows made me flash back to 2007 when we had just moved to Missouri and we were making the long trek from the base to Blue Springs to take Kaleb to school and we passed a field of buffalo. In true "cool mom" fashion I belted out "look kids, look at the buffalo." Your response in true 4 year old Mason fashion blurted out "are they the ones with wings?" Perhaps we like Buffalo Wild Wings a little to much. Cue tears here. I digress 

        With your senior year or what was "called" your senior year, in the rearview mirror, your future is right in front of you and it is super duper bright. 

           It doesn't seem real that we just drove you 700 miles away and left you to adult on your own. Not our little chunky monkey who loved to make us laugh at his silliness while he pushed the dare devil limits. Your toddler days seem like yesterday, when you would sneak off to a room to be left to your own entertainment. We wouldn't hear a peep out of you for the longest time and when we checked on you, there you were playing GI JOES, doing puzzles, playing with blocks or riding the horse and saying "yeehaw ride em cowboy!" Even though I was blessed to stay home and never miss a precious moment, it doesn't seem right that your days of adulting are upon us. It's not fair, I want more time of having you at home, under my roof, safe and secure. No one tells you that the hardest thing about parenting is when your damn kids grow up. There is nothing that can prepare a parent for the time that your job as "parent" at home is done and now we have to transition to a whole different aspect of "parenting." Your dad and I promise to let you navigate this on your own....without texting 500 times a day, but just know that if you ignore us for more than 24 hours your crazy mother may just show up unannounced. HAHA In seriousness we hope that we did our job, maybe not always the best but we pray that we equipped you with the tools you need to be successful. We are grateful God blessed us with the last 18 years of having you under our wings, and now He is entrusting us to let you soar. 

                                                                       


            That being said we are releasing you into a world that we don't recognize and it quite frankly scares the shit out of me. But one bright silver lining of this craziness, is that we were able to have you home to witness how you would navigate all the unknowns. You probably don't even know it but having you home every day for the last 20 months we watched you overcome situations that teenagers have never had to imagine facing. You were dealt a pretty crappy hand your last year of high school, but you never once let that take your focus off of what was still ahead for you in life. Mason you have taught me so much about how to face adversity and the things that you have no control over. Life isn't always fair but to that you give it the middle finger and say okay well watch this. I wish I could be more like you when it comes to moving past the things we can't control or the things that seem so ass backwards. You have a solid foundation of God and with that comes the knowledge that He is in control and whatever path He has carved out for you already, that you are going to be thankful for whatever and wherever it takes you. As you are quickly learning these first few days on your own, that it doesn't always work out as planned. Adapt and overcome, live and learn, and dust yourself off and get back up onto your horse. Because tomorrow is a new day!

         700 miles doesn't seem too far away, but in the grand scheme of things it seems like worlds away. We have been such a huge part of your growing up, at every one of your practices, games, and events. There for all your milestones, accomplishments, stumbles, challenges, lessons learned and everything in between. Your dad coaching many of your teams from the time you were three to the time you hit middle school. Now we are entrusting you to do so many things all on your own. As parents we get to prepare for this day throughout your childhood, through reluctantly releasing you to sleepovers, overnight camps, first day of kindergarten, and letting you drive on your own. However, nothing really can prepare us for the mother load of having to let go as you depart for college. The dreaded but joyous moment that you get ever so comfortable living on your own and OUR home becomes a place that you now visit and no longer the place you reside. Even though you say you want to live with us forever. 😊 The last 18 years seemed to have flashed before our very eyes and now reality is knocking on our front door. It's now time to move onto bigger and better things, to begin your life as an adult, and to see where the future takes you.  

           You are a pretty awesome kid Mason and we beam with pride being able to call you our son. You make us so proud. We have no doubt that whatever life throws at you, that you will take it in stride and not let it slow you down. You know that nothing comes without hard work and sometimes we are at a disadvantage and that means work harder. We are proud of you and your bravery and courage of venturing far away out into the world as a barely 18 year old to be you and do your thing. We love you kid!!!

 πŸ’™πŸ’™πŸ’™Colossians 3:23 "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters."

 

                                                                               

                                                                      

    πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™ ~ πŸ’™