The Beginning of Letting Go.

The Beginning of Letting Go.

Breathe. You did it, Mama.

I dropped my little boy off at preschool today.

First time he’s ever been away from us without a parent or grandparent since the day he was born.

Three years I’ve had a shadow. Three years I’ve showered, ate, played, and slept when this little boy did.

For three years I lived for him.

They weren’t kidding when they said having a boy is like the slowest break up of your life.

Today, I had to leave my heart at a kid size table to share with 15 other little children.

Today, I cried like a baby watching the school’s front door close and knowing this was the last, first, first day of school for both of us.

Today, I had to start learning to let go.

I’ll be a veteran next year and while it will be sad, it won’t be the sobbing, kick you in the gut, can’t think straight, out of body experience like this was today.

I’m sure every child in the future will be so hard to watch transition into this new life phase, but there’s nothing like the first time.

The first time is raw and surreal.

I watched my tiny little boy, walk in like such a grown man, find his seat and sit there beaming ready for this next adventure as I watched helplessly from the coat room.

I had to walk out the doors, but my feet felt stuck and my eyes glued on him.

Will he remember his manners? To tell the teachers when he has to potty?

Will he be ahead or behind? Will he be willing to learn new things? Will he miss us?

I spent three short years getting him ready for this day.

And, Oh Boy! He was ready.

I just wasn’t.

I went to the local coffee shop to kill my time. Going home seemed empty and my time seemed lonely.

Normally, I wouldn’t get this delicacy.

A trip to a restaurant or store wouldn’t be relaxing (or even a thought in our normal day routine.)

We’d run in for what we needed and run out quicker than we came. Just barely avoiding a scene and catastrophic event.

But, today I get to sip my coffee and reflect.

Snow falling just outside the big picture windows of this historic building.

My coffee still warm and only heated once.

While, it seems like it’s the end..

It’s really the beginning.

This is a new season, the start to our new normal.

… and after sitting down and reflecting just how hard I worked and how much of me I gave up to get to this point.

It makes it just a little bit easier to sit and enjoy this latte.

You did it, Mama.

You’re here.

Welcome, to the letting go. It’s totally okay to cry.