It’s only September and I’ve already cried. I haven’t prayed in quite some time, but I’m thinking about cashing in all my good deeds to get that button to press that pauses time for just, I don’t know, another 10 years. Is that too much to ask?
Got about 30 different letters from college addressed to my 17-year-old senior in high school. I hate that sentence. I hate it all…but I love it for her.
I love her finally being a senior, the big kids at school. She’s completely a different human than she was just a few months ago and it has been incredible to see. She’s confident. You know what confidence looks like on a teenager. It’s breathtakingly beautiful to see as a Dad. I love hearing from her 2 minutes before she leaves for the day that she’s not sure when she will see me because of a billion different things she has to do on that day.
But, it’s September, which means it’s now officially under a year before she leaves for whatever adventure awaits her after high school is done. I hate this so damn much. I have no more Augusts left, and pretty soon September will be gone too. Does anyone know where that pause button ended up?
A few of my friends have already done this, I’m sure a few of you reading this have done it. You can tell me I’m being a baby, tell me nothing changes, tell me your relationship is actually better, tell me all the little things you learned that make you now feeling silly about being a nervous parent of a high school senior, but, you know I won’t believe you.
I was thinking the other day about the show Survivor. How that show has always been our thing. I’ve written about it many many times before. It’s easily my favorite memory or tradition with her. Popcorn and talking strategy and who we like and who we hate and getting to know her. It’s never really been about the actual show, it’s always been for me just an excuse to steal and hour a week with her, check in, and stuff our faces with popcorn. So, I mentioned to my wife that with this being her last year with us that the next two seasons of the show would be our last and she saw it, she saw me tear up, and then she teared up.
It’s September and we’re already crying.
My youngest daughter is drawing blueprints to what she is going to do to her new room once her sister is off to college. She has a full design in place and even put a bed in her “old room” so when the college girl returns, she will have a place to sleep. She’s so thoughtful…
As a kid we are always looking forward, lots of “I can’t wait to’s”, but as a parent we constantly look backwards, lots of “remember this”. My kids are looking forward to new rooms in their lives. Someday I will find some beauty in that. Someday I will have perspective and love for whatever they will build. But, for now, I will be nervously dreading every “last” I get with my little girls. Just when I think I slightly understand this Dad thing, like I just learned how to tread water in the ocean, I peak over my shoulder and I see this 100-foot wave about to crash into me.
A Dad not ready to let his little girl go.
It’s September and I’m already crying.
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