The Last Day of School

I talked briefly with my daughter, Sarah, today.  "I can't talk long, Mom," she explained.  She was working away on her final paper and studying for exams, and making arrangements for graduation on Saturday.  Just before we said goodbye she said, "Mom...  this is my last day of my undergraduate education."   I was stopped in my verbal tracks, took it in for a moment, and then felt hot tears welling in my eyes.  "Wow," I said so very eloquently.  And then my throat closed up and I started to cry - just a little, and silently - with the realization of how momentous this is.  Her LAST DAY of school.  We've been at this since Kindergarten and here it is her last day.  I have written much about the first day of school, but never really thought about what the last day would feel like. This time tomorrow, she will be finished with classes and papers and books and deadlines and presentations and exams and homework.  17 years of school.  I am so proud and so happy and so amazed that this moment has arrived.  Wow.

What will it be like to have a child FINISHED with school?  At least for now.  (She plans to go on to graduate studies.)  I imagine much the same in terms of finding out how things are going at work, trials and triumphs of life in the world, relationship ups and down.  It will all continue.  But, tonight, I am standing on a threshold, and when I step across that line, I will have one child out of school, independent of me, on her way to the adult world.

Julia had her last soccer game this week.  Her last!  She's been playing with this team since they were too small to fit into the shirts and we had to wash them in very hot water so that they would sort of fit.  And now that they are 18, this is it.  They are officially too old to play next year - not to mention that they will all be off to college.  We all got a little misty at the end of the game.  One last "Hey!  Whose water bottle is this?"  "Pick up your orange peels!"  But largely missing was the "See you at practice."  Or, "Have a great winter - see you next fall!"  It felt final - but right.  It's time.  The girls are ready to be finished.  But then again, not...  you know how it goes.

We are all walking through this door together.  Our family is growing up.

Wow.