August 7

"My head feels like it's workin' overtime on nothing."

That's what Isaac said after dinner, and I don't think I've ever related to a statement quite like I relate to this one. 

It was his response when I reminded him --for the sixth or seventh time (had to -- he loves that 6/7 thing)-- that he still needed to pack because we leave in the morning for Wheaton. It was, I think, his way of saying that he felt overwhelmed and needed a bit more time to process the looming reality. So he asked to play a few hands of cards first, and then we went and got ice cream at The Dairy (where Tyler, his long-time good friend, took our order), and then he played catch with Brady in the yard, and then Adam and I took Abby to the airport while he figured out which video games to take to school. (She's flying out to spend a few days with her friends; the rest of us are taking the train. It'll be an experience!) And now, now that it's almost midnight, he's munching his way through a Totino's pizza while slowly packing up his things. Processing reality in his own way, in his own time.

And I guess I'm doing the same: processing reality in my own way, in my own time. I haven't really let myself be sad about him leaving, but today the chinks in my armor widened and I cried more than once. I know he'll do wonderfully well at college; he's a people-person and college is an amazing place for people-people. And I know that God holds him in the palm of His hand and will continue to do so. But as the one who carried him for nine months and watched him grow from a chunky baby into a wide-eyed toddler and then on to a conscientious kid and a responsible, caring, sweet teen and now young adult, it's hard to watch him take those steps away from me.

Still, I'm grateful to be his mom. And I'm grateful to know that God has great things in store for him.