With Change Come Tears

Yesterday Frank began his final semester as a high school student. He also began his third semester as a Berklee Online student. I didn't cry. I'm not crying now, but I anticipate the tears will come unexpectedly. When Doug let Frank sit at the head of the table on New Year's Eve, I cried. I teared up periodically throughout dinner, much to the chagrin of my family. But hell with it, I'm emotional. And I cry. If they haven't figured that out by now, they've been in a coma. I'm tired of apologizing for it.

Perhaps that should be my resolution for 2017. I'll cry whenever the spirit moves me, without apology or shame. In fact, not crying should be more shameful than crying. I'm able to express my feelings. It's a strength, not a weakness.

We are in midst of the countdown to the hour Frank finds out whether he got into Berklee or not. When asked if he's anxious, he consistently says he's not. It is what it is, he explains. And he's right. There are options, although I think all of us are staying positive.

It is hard to believe that sweet baby boy we welcomed into the world seventeen and a half years ago is about to graduate from high school and soon, leave for college. I know I'm not the first parent to say this, I'm sure EVERY parent says it. 

I'm already thinking about vacations and school breaks, and how long he'll be able to be home between semesters, but then I do tend to get ahead of myself. I've been purposeful in reminding myself that there are months between now and the time we drop him off at college, and not to wish those away, or not savor every moment between now and then.

And so time marches on, as it always does . . . and tears will come, as they always do.

Happy 2017!