Girlfriends last forever

My coffee mug...sitting on the counter this morning and I read it like it was for the first time. Matter of fact the first time I read it I thought "aww, that's sweet but THIS guy that I have hanging around right now is gonna be the One". Nope. Of course he wasn't (but that's another post). And of course the girlfriend who gave me the mug was there to help me through it. As were a host of others. I have girlfriends that I've known since I was an awkward teenager, ones that have known me since elementary school, known me married, only as a divorced woman and every version of me in between. These women have watched me grow and change. They've been with me while I was ugly on the inside and on the outside. They've noticed details about me that even the most observant male is likely to miss. I'm not saying there's no room in my life for a man. Im not even saying I don't still believe the perfect one for me exists somewhere. I'm just saying that the sentiment of this mug hits me right in the middle of my heart today. Men HAVE gone. Ones I thought I'd never be without. My girlfriends were there for that. They helped me clean up the mess left from over 20 years. They're still helping me. Men have come into my life and my girlfriends were there to dish over details and put up with my "isn't he greats"?  My girlfriends don't care if I "let myself go" or if I like to wear too many concert t-shirts. They don't care if I don't do the laundry. They will gently remind me if my pack rat tendencies get outta control by saying "hey do you REALLY need that .....blah blah". They remind me of who I am when life and pain have caused me to forget. They buy me cheese and bring Guinness to talk about all the reasons that last one wasn't "the One" when it ended. They love me when I ugly cry and when I'm smiling. They love my kids like their own. They tolerate my cats. They show me patience and consideration. Maybe one day another man will come into my life. Maybe not. One thing I knew for sure.... My girlfriends will still be there. 

The last "First" day

Monday 8/10/15. This is the last first day of school my number one son will have. Senior year and the count down to his leaving home begin that day. I have panic attacks if I think about that too long. I still remember his first day of preschool and the preparations it took. I took him to the barber for a haircut - his "handlsome hair" he called it. Just a typical little boy haircut. His wide grin filled with perfect little boy teeth. I remember feeling anticipation the night before that first day too. Here we are 13 years later and it looks a lot different but there's still that tug in my chest. A mixed emotion cocktail minus the cute umbrella. He doesn't need me to buy him a backpack and lunchbox anymore. He doesn't need me to help him lay out his clothes making sure they all match. He doesn't need me to walk him to class or volunteer at his school. He doesn't need me to drop him off or pick him up. There are a great number of things he doesn't need me to do anymore. Which is exactly the way it's supposed to be. So why does it break my heart in half to think about it? The best I can figure is this...in all the years before this moment there were guidelines that I could study and follow for what he would need from me. From "What to expect when you're expecting" to "Have a new kid by Friday". I read every parenting magazine and book I could over the years. This is uncharted territory. I have no idea what besides my unconditional love and support I can offer. There's not a follow up book titled "What to expect when your firstborn moves out and joins the military". There's no word I know for how this feels except OUCH. I was pretty confident back when he was little that I was doing a good job. Writing this I wonder... Have I given him what he needs to survive in this world? Have I given him the tools to live on his own and be ok? To guard his heart and protect the light of that little four year old that I can still see in his eyes every time he smiles? Have I instilled in him all the lessons that I would spend countless hours talking to him about as I rocked him in my arms? Will he remember the lullabies and the love? Will he carry it with him in dark moments? Is the faith I tried to give him strong enough? I know that kids are supposed to grow up and begin their own lives and I know he's not gone yet but I also know that I will jealously guard each moment I have this year and burn it in my memory because it will never be exactly like this again. Like the other night when we went and saw the new Vacation together, just the two of us.  He'll come back to visit I'm sure. But it will never be exactly like this again, with his room across the hall and his shoes all over the floor. With his music pouring too loudly through the walls as he gets ready for his day. So here I am the day before the last first day of school and all he really needed me to do was make sure his gas tank was full and that he had a couple new outfits. He's a good kid.  He'll be a good man. And I'll always be his momma.