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That Tall One

He's eighteen.

It was just a moment ago that he was my sweet, chubby, curly-crowned toddler.

Clutching tightly to the hem of my dress he followed my every step. All day. Every. Day. More times than I can count I've placed him in that sink to scrub away the dirt...reached out to grab hold of another love bouquet...glued together the bread necklace that kept losing pieces - I wore it proudly anytime I went out. I've cleaned up cheese and Oreos he left in the most unexpected places. Watched the thrill spread his face as he opened a box of tap lights...learned to ride a unicycle...got his license. I've grabbed on for dear life as he spun me around country roads in a yellow truck named Buttermilk...and I've listened to that singing Billy Bass until I knew I was going to be committed. He's always been the one who found joy in the peculiar. Always the one who got me - and made me roar with laughter. We're so much alike and yet very different.

Now we're here.
It's been a long while since I've hugged a soft boy that swept my chin. For many years he has towered over me and when his arms wrap my frame I get a bit lost. Still - I wanted to believe there was time.

As I lay between the cotton, the eve before his birthday, memories flood my thoughts. I try to pin down when it was exactly - the moment he went from a boy to a man.

He was eight.

He ask for Cherry Cheesecake instead of a birthday cake. That is when it began. He started making my coffee every morning. He was growing up but where we are presently seemed so far in the distance. Time went so fast - too fast.

Change. It's a constant in life.

Reality hits hard the day after he blew out candles. It's Sunday. I'm sitting on the couch. Sick.  Holding my youngest babe when his words spin like a whirlwind. At the end, I feel like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz but my heart feels like the wicked witch the house fell upon. Crushed.

He wants to move to Kansas...buy some land and a fixer upper. The thought of him leaving hurts.  Not seeing his smiling face or hearing "my pleasure." everyday...hurts. Yet, at the same time I couldn't be more proud of him.

I understand it won't be long until he leaves and his younger brother trails close behind. That's what they're supposed to do. I'm preparing my heart.

They were never mine to begin with.  I remind myself to trust God because He loves them even more than I.  I can't wait to see how the story unfolds and I want him to go if this is the plan God has.

But it's not easy.
It's honestly the hardest part of parenting.

He shows me the houses he's been spying and then walks to his room to take a nap.
I hold that youngest babe a bit longer...it won't be long until it's their time to leave too.

Until then...
Jessie

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