my precious chickadees

Early tomorrow morning  we’ll drop off Jonathan’s stuff at Tech. It’ll all fit comfortably in the car so I don’t anticipate the kind of crazy ordeal we had with Christy, who essentially has an apartment to herself (and looking quite comfy with my guitar, thankyouverymuch). And that’s it. My little chicks will be scattered across the universe (overly dramatic? What’s the difference between California, Macon and the Delta Quadrant if I can’t step out with one of them for a cup of coffee on a whim?). Fear not — the drama is just that, drama, but there is certainly a collection of feelings that shouldn’t be able to co-exist in my head and heart, and yet they do.

I am so proud of them for figuring out what they need to do and going for it. It’s been stressful for them and us, and not an easy thing to do (for any of us). I’d like to still be able to manage every move they make, approve their friends, suggest their next steps, tell them what to do. They’ve been just fine — I’m the one that has had to learn to let go…they’ve pretty much been making their own good (and sometimes bad) decisions on their own for a while.

So, I guess my role now is to kiss them goodbye and remind them that home is never far away. That I will always love them. That there’s always a light on in the kitchen. That they should remember who they are and where they come from. That their actions and choices have consequences. That God loves them. That prayer is a balm. That they should remember to brush their teeth. That whites go in hot water and colors in cold. That there’s safety in numbers. That there’s nothing cozier than a hoodie and a hot chocolate on a cold night.

That an occasional text message to their mother will alleviate her neuroses.