My son started back to school on Tuesday. It’s his senior year. How did my sweet, little, only child get to be a senior? It doesn’t seem possible.
I’ve already started my own countdown of lasts. I’m sure he has as well, but probably from a totally different perspective.
Tuesday was his last, first day of school before he becomes an adult and either goes on to college/university, or into the workforce, or chasing whatever dream he has his sights set on. Yes, I took a picture before he left. No, he wasn’t excited about that. Made him do it anyway. He will appreciate it later. I needed it now.
Today, is the last, first day of after school marching band practice. He lives for music and being with his band family. He’s going to miss this family he has been with for the better part of seven years. Many he has been in band with since sixth grade. Sure he may still see a few after they all graduate, but not day in and day out. It will be bittersweet.
Next Friday, will be the last, first football game of the season when he will perform his last, first marching band performance of the year. The Friday after that, the last, first home game of the season where I will work my butt off working in the concession stand, trying to sneak a peek out the door as he marches onto the field for the first, last pre-game show. Then it will be his last game performance, last pep-rally, last competition, and last band banquet. He’s planning on attending a college that has a marching band and hopefully a degree teaching the music he loves. Or it could be something totally different. But it will be a new beginning…as an adult.
Earlier in the summer, was his last school photo taken for the yearbook. He looks so grown up in those pictures all dressed in a black tux. Is my little boy in there somewhere? It’s getting harder to find him in the handsome, young man he is becoming.
Next semester will be his first high school Rock Band performance, quickly followed by his last one. A new venture for him and a new music family. He will blink and it will be his last performance. Gone so quickly he will wonder what happened. But who knows what spark it will light in him.
Before I know it, it will be his last band performance, his last grade card, his last day of driving to high school, his last yearbook, his last day of high school.
I’m not ready for this yet. I want him to stay my little boy forever. But I won’t hold him back. I want him to dream, work for, and achieve his wildest dreams. Have adventures. But most of all, I want him to grow to be a good man, with a heart and compassion for others. I want him to enjoy life. Learn new things. Be a good example to others. I want him to know he always has a home to come back to. A home where he can relax and feel safe, knowing he is around everyone who loves him beyond everything.
Will it be sad when he graduates? Yes. Will I still smile through the tears at the man he is becoming? Yes. Will I forever support him in whatever he dreams to achieve? Yes. Because he’s my little boy and always will be. I look forward to seeing the man he will become.
I’ll just keep smiling through my tears and being the proud mama that I am in the meantime.
Please pass me the jumbo box of tissues.
Anya
Anya Kelleye 