I was ok.
No really. I was.
He hugged me. I wished him a great day. I took lots of pictures. And they both let me.
No arguing. No complaining. They know me. They "get" me.
And Chap and I got in my car. And he got in his. And as we approached the high school. I got a big lump in my throat. Knowing that I wasn't dropping him off for this monumental day.
Day one. Senior year.
I glanced in my rear view. And I spotted him.
All on his own.
It got me.
Like such a perfect picture.
He's growing up. He's gaining independence. And isn't that what I had hoped for.
Isn't this what you spend those early years doing? Teaching lessons of independence.
But then. In my rear view.
So very appropriate.
It was like I saw it all in a glance. All in my rear view.
Kindergarten. And Mrs Whitten. And tying shoes. And learning letters. And making school projects. And junior high. And field days. And lunch boxes.
There it all is.
All wrapped up in that white Ford Explorer.
Goodness I'm so thankful for the sweet guy he is. And how much he loves me, and loves Jesus, and loves life in his own quiet way.
But as I watched him zip into that parking lot, it was more than I could take.
Praying. With all that is within me, for the best year ever.