An older friend of mine, over a decade ahead of me in the homeschool retirement life, once shared with me (paraphrased due to time passage along my brain path):
“When you do one season well, the next season comes naturally without regret. You can be joyful for the change.” J.C. (No, not the J.C., although one of His dear friends 🙂 )
Her words stuck in my heart like a well-aimed chocolate arrow.
Where’s the Deep Sorrow?
She shared the thought as I was getting ready to graduate my first born from high school, having homeschooled all the way through.
I wasn’t feeling the deep sorrow I rather expected to feel.
When you do one season well, the next season comes naturally without regret.
What I felt was … relief, as well as joy and excitement for the next season of his life.
And a deep searing pain,
as if I had pulled a hot pan from a 400 degree oven, set it on the counter, turned around briefly, turned back, grabbed the metal pan handle, thought the tingling was nerve pain, so holding on ‘til the tingling stopped, but it didn’t.
Oh, wait, I did that. That wasn’t graduation pain that was charred hand pain.
Moving on from the char-grilled mama down the road a few years …
The first born of whom I speak, with a bachelor’s degree summa cum laude under his tassel, is getting ready to leave the nest, possibly for good.
Well, absolutely for GOOD, but possibly for a very long (permanent) time.
Oh, I don’t mean it’s absolutely good he’s leaving, as in “Get outta here, kid, ya bother me.”
But absolutely good, as in the “He’s getting to do exactly what he wants to do where he wants to do it, so how can it not be good?” kind of good. 🙂
Borrowing Emotional Courage – and Man Mu-mushes
As said first born, AKA Grant, cleans out his room, I’m borrowing emotional courage from his transition – and his mu-mushes (aka muscles) while he’s still around!
‘Tis time to clear out the bookshelves:
Out Go the Books
As you might guess, it’s not a cinch-y emotional walk in the park.
Yet, thanks to Marie Kondo’s book, I’m relishing the think-walks in edu-parks of the past, as we used many of these books as our guides.
I say “many” because there were some I bought or were gifted that we never actually used. It happens. It’s ok.
I still want to read these two in particular. Thankfully, I know who has them now, so if I’m still pining in a month I might be able to borrow them. Edu-visitation rights, of sorts.
My Own Edu-Chase
Then again, I’ll probably get distracted by some squirrel of learning and be off on my own edu-chase.
Speaking of edu-chases, guess what arrived the very day I was sending books on to their new adventures?
I’ll give you a hint. 🙂
They are brothers and sisters of the residents of the top two shelves of this bookcase:
(See, I did save some books. And yah, this is just one bookcase. I know, the books aren’t color-coded or even Dewey # sorted. That will have to come when I’m bored.)
Which won’t be happening for awhile because …
In Comes the Yarn
At the very same moment the books were going out, yarn came in! (You guessed right, didn’t you?)
Lots of yarn!
Thank you, Susan S!
Wondering, but Not Totally Worried
I am wondering what this next season will look like for:
- My son.
- Me (I imagine it includes yarn ).
- My son’s room.
- My new office space.*
- My daughter, in the 2nd half of earning her bachelors degree.
- The hours, days, weeks and years ahead.
*See “son’s room” aka Twiskers’ Habitat (I’m thinking happy blues and greens and white.)
Stick with the Season
I don’t worry (too much) about the hours, days and weeks ahead.
But I have to admit the years – if I think about them too much – start to worry me.
Then again, I felt that way when my kids were doing 3rd grade lessons and I was thinking ahead to high school.
Stick with the season, girlfriend, stick with the season.
To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven.