these small hours

I heard this song by Rob Thomas yesterday while I was driving Sarah to Sherman. She had to finish filling out paperwork for her new job. (Her job as a layout artist for 3 small newspapers in Anna, Melissa and Prosper.) While I prefer the term "hand of God" over that of "fate". . the song still nevertheless resonated with me. Maybe because I see that what we have left with Sarah are "moments". Glimpses, small snippets of life as she continues rapidly down the path toward independence and her own life. So I find myself looking for opportunities like yesterday.

It's funny. . .more sad actually. . .that while we have been investing and building into her life. . .she has been becoming an adult. . who's natural path is to grow up and go off on her own. My driving her to Sherman yesterday was a small attempt to spend as much time with her as I can. To capitalize on the times when she still needs me and wants to spend time together.

It has totally taken me by surprise that I am this person. Someone who feels like she has a vice grip on her heart when she thinks on these things for too long. When the girls were young, I was the one who was ready for the next stage each step of the way. That came to a screeching halt the summer of 2009. . .the summer before Sarah's senior year. All of a sudden, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Our time with Sarah was flying by and there was no way to make it slow down.

I have wondered if what makes it especially hard is the fact that Sarah will be the only one who will take wing. Jeff, Hannah and I will, more than likely, always be a nucleus. The only one from our family unit who will move away will be Sarah. Gosh, that brings tears to my eyes just typing it. This has been much harder than I ever anticipated it would be.

A lyric in the song says, "Don't you know? The hardest part is over." I don't know. The "work" of raising her is over. We have taught, guided, prayed, modeled, dialogued for 18 years. . .she's "gotten" what she is going to get. The rest is up to her. . .and what she will do with it. Not that we won't always be here for her and, hopefully, always be able to be a trusted part of her world. While the raising was hard work. . .it is almost, for me, just as hard to have to just stand by and let her be. . .let her go. . let her make her choices. . .let her walk away. . .let her not NEED me anymore. Maybe that is the source of the pain. To not be needed. To have spent a lifetime being such an integral part of their lives. . .and then to find yourself out of a job. . .simply NOT needed.

I realize that is not the way to put it or to think about it. In reality, it means that we HAVE done our job. She, little bit by little bit, is READY to handle life on her own. I KNOW in my head that that is a GOOD thing. . .there is just a large part of my HEART that wants to hold on. . . that will always see her and her little blond bob, ready at any time to snuggle, always either with a sketchbook in her hands or running off to play make-believe.