This was it.
So, despite seeming okay with it on Wednesday (a ‘transitional’ half-day at school), by the time Friday rolled around, I sobbed like a baby. The tears just wouldn’t stop. My son asked me why I was crying and I replied, “I’m fine, these are happy tears because I’m so proud of you!” Which was definitely true… I just left out the part about me being a sentimental Mama.
Before I knew it, the bell rang and it was time for him to line up. I couldn’t send him off without documenting the moment, so I took a red-faced “ugly cry” selfie of the two of us (vanity be damned!). I wasn’t going to let my tears ruin this.
After seeing him march into the school with his friends, the rain started. It began as just a sprinkle or two, but the sky quickly opened up and big, fat drops started to fall. It was strangely comforting, somehow, as they mirrored the tears I had just shed. The rain was a welcome distraction until I reached the safety of my porch.
Then, sinking into a comfy chair, I took a moment to reflect on the events of the morning. My tears had dried, the rain (mysteriously) stopped, the sun came out and I pulled out my smartphone to see the picture I had just taken.
In it, my son was smiling away, so happy to be embarking on a new adventure.
At that moment, I knew I was ready for change… for both of us. I’m ready to start the next chapter in my life.
And I’m ready to watch him soar.