Mile Markers
I just got home from taking Opie to summer camp. For the next five days he will be at a camp in Louisiana where (until 4 hours ago) he only knew the friend whom he accompanied. He was so excited all day today as we wrote his name in all of his clothes and packed sets of clothes into gallon-sized zip-lock bags so he wouldn't have to decide for himself what to wear (his idea, not mine). He chattered and blathered about how much fun he was going to have as we packed his suitcase. He paced and fretted as he watched the minutes take hours to pass.
We rode over to the camp with his friend's mom who is also my friend. She and I are in the same boat. Our first-born sons are gone for a week. I'm not sad or worried. I'm thrilled that he's at camp and that he's going to have a week of "freedom" from his daddy and me...a chance to be himself without us looking over his shoulder. Once he had staked his claim on his top bunk and shoved his suitcase under the bottom one, it was all I could do to get a high-five from him ... forget about a kiss. After all, he was excited, and I was NOT going to embarrass him by going all "Mom" on him. I'll enjoy the five days of (relative) quiet, and we'll make the most of the time we have with Calvin alone (since he rarely gets alone time at home with us). It's all good.
But as we drove home, I watched the mile markers as we drove past them. They stood resolute, like soldiers, waiting for the next car to zoom by. I realized that the markers don't move faster or slower...we do. (Deep, I know.) They only appear to move quickly because we are in a hurry. I was reminded that right now life is moving at a tremendous speed, and as we pass the milestones of childhood they go faster and faster. Soon - very soon - they will be the markers of puberty and teen angst, then young adulthood and independence.
I'm glad that Opie is growing into a charming, intelligent, creative older boy. I'm proud of him. But for just a few minutes tonight, I selfishly wished that I could slow down the car that is our life and spend a little more time between the markers.
We rode over to the camp with his friend's mom who is also my friend. She and I are in the same boat. Our first-born sons are gone for a week. I'm not sad or worried. I'm thrilled that he's at camp and that he's going to have a week of "freedom" from his daddy and me...a chance to be himself without us looking over his shoulder. Once he had staked his claim on his top bunk and shoved his suitcase under the bottom one, it was all I could do to get a high-five from him ... forget about a kiss. After all, he was excited, and I was NOT going to embarrass him by going all "Mom" on him. I'll enjoy the five days of (relative) quiet, and we'll make the most of the time we have with Calvin alone (since he rarely gets alone time at home with us). It's all good.
But as we drove home, I watched the mile markers as we drove past them. They stood resolute, like soldiers, waiting for the next car to zoom by. I realized that the markers don't move faster or slower...we do. (Deep, I know.) They only appear to move quickly because we are in a hurry. I was reminded that right now life is moving at a tremendous speed, and as we pass the milestones of childhood they go faster and faster. Soon - very soon - they will be the markers of puberty and teen angst, then young adulthood and independence.
I'm glad that Opie is growing into a charming, intelligent, creative older boy. I'm proud of him. But for just a few minutes tonight, I selfishly wished that I could slow down the car that is our life and spend a little more time between the markers.