The 18th Year
The 18th year of your child’s life and their senior year in high school is magical, busy and overwhelmingly exciting. It is also gut-wrenching for a mom whose frantic appeal for more time with her boy is met with speeding sands hurling through the hourglass. They don’t mention this phase in the “everything you need to know” books you memorized while pregnant all those years ago. And let’s face it, no parent has had time to read since then.
I remember when we brought you home, our first-born. There was this overwhelming feeling of gratitude and exuberance upon realizing that we actually get to keep this little bundle of joy. He’s ours, we thought. What a grand feeling that was then and continues now. Those days were so incredible not only in the miracle of birth and the subsequent growth, but milestones also met, and just sheer wonder at this baby’s existence. But also, the knowledge we were gaining, learning every day how to better care for you than the day before. Every smile was met with melted hearts on our behalf and the sleepless nights, while brutal at the time, now seem like some of the best hours I’ve spent. Just you and me working it out, celebrating the small victories of sleep with endless cuddles.
As you grew and became mobile and the time between crawling and running was so quick, it was symbolic for the pace that the rest would come. One day you toddled into the park then I blinked, and you were climbing to the top of slide. How did this happen? Look at my big boy go. Our school choices were built around you having such difficulty leaving us. Those first days of preschool and kindergarten, so sad to leave you behind as you cried for me, and it took my entire will to get in the car and drive off. Soon your teachers and friends took note of your kindness and special nature, and we celebrated your awards and accomplishments with absolute glee. Your love of scouting brought you and your dad to many campouts and meetings, popcorn sales and crossover ceremonies and before we knew it the long journey to Eagle Scout has almost been realized.
The blur of movies and sports events, volunteering in your classroom, dances, school trips, holidays and sleepovers with friends was mixed with a bit of dread as I knew the glory days would be up soon. I remember somewhere around your 10th birthday it hit me that you had already spent more years in our home than you had remaining, and I’ve never really gotten over that realization. In all our efforts to let you spread your wings, find your interests, enjoy your friends, I wonder now if I should have been more selfish with you and kept you home more. I know the answer is no, but the heartened mind does ponder.

And here we are, almost to the halfway point of your senior year. In a few days you will turn 18. Today you are on a plane to Wisconsin to see your favorite football team, and next weekend you will be enjoying a last scouting trip to Cape Canaveral. We have Mr. Pine View next month, then Spring Break and track season and soon we will be watching you walk across the stage at Van Wezel to accept your diploma. And I know as sure as the day is long that it will all feel like it happened in a nanosecond.


As I write this, I am also searching for hotel accommodations so we can steal away for a few days, just the four of us, before you head off to college. Until then, I will treasure every moment we have together, including our late-night conversations where I purposefully get up because I know you’re still awake and I just want to talk to you. As you’re eating a quick bite before rushing off to work, I’ll sit and savor every word we exchange. I will put extra care in the homemade breakfasts you always get before you head out the door in the mornings and I will hug you a little harder before I remind you to drive safely on the way to school. And I will sit in the audience at your upcoming events and cheer you on, overflowing with pride that this is the same boy who couldn’t let go of my hand those first days of school. My precious son, I love you. The journey is fast, and my moments with you are the absolute best. It is all wrapped around time, this life we have, dear boy. Please be present in it, always share it with me, and know that if I could spend it all over again with you, I would.
Photos Courtesy of Jodi Schwarzenbach