It is a harsh reality that our sweet newborns grow and grow and...grow up. These adults of ours aren't just grown-ups, they are OURS, and they are special. They go out into the world, and our thoughts and prayers and well-wishes go with them...and parts of our hearts, too. The thing is, with my kids,I know some of them will be fine...a few others,...well, I want to go with them and hold their hands. I wonder if I have taught them well enough, if I have done too much for them or not enough, if I have been a good enough example for them.
So letting go is not easy. With Sam...well, he IS special. He is brilliant and so tender-hearted, thoughtful and kind. He loves his country, and has this faith in the goodness of man, a faith I don't want to see shattered.
But I love him, and respect him, and have realized that the best thing I can do is give him my blessing, treat him like a big boy, and let him go.
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Sometimes I find being a mom of grown up kids "oh, so much harder" than it was when the house was full of the noise and chaos of seven children underfoot. It's a different kind of tired now. My knees should be sporting callouses...
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