Letting go...

Today we are heading up the mountain to send Zach off to his first summer camp experience. Feel with me, if you will, the heart strings snapping. This is my first real moment of letting go.

It was easy to watch him learn to crawl, walk, ride a bike, go off to school. All those moments were exciting for me to watch. I rejoiced in the milestones because I somehow deceived myself into thinking that he was still "little" and that "we still had so much more time". I also was a participating witness to those moments-- I felt a part of them.

But today I hand him off to a stranger (a responsible, loving, caring young adult--yes?) and a week of summer that will be all his own. I will only hear the stories that come back with him. (I'm not counting on any mail.)

For some reason this makes me feel old, not the fact that I just turned 40. I have a growing son that will spend a week away from me. 

I will not be there to:

• remind him to brush his teeth
• wash his hands
• eat his veggies
• put on a clean pair of socks
• close his mouth while he eats
• kiss him goodnight
• watch him experience the blast that summer camp can be

But the coolest thing...my first summer at this very same camp was my summer going into 5th grade. (I pulled out my camp picture to show Zach my 70's hair and t-shirt.) The highlight of my summers was flying off to camp with my best friend. (I went every year till I graduated from high school.) I then worked five college summers as a counselor there, a dream I had when I was that little camper.

Now my son is completing the circle. For the last few weeks leading up to this day, he has been living off my memories, asking me questions. Starting today, he will make them his own.  For this I am excited...and sad. I wish I could go with him. :)

Zach, I will think of you every minute you are away from me and pray for your safety (and cleanliness).

I cannot wait for you to come home.

(Dear God what will I be like when we're driving him off to college?!)