"If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies." - Unknown

I hear the sound of a drum beating.  It started ever so faintly.  In the beginning, the sound was almost inaudible.   At first, I heard it only occasionally, on birthdays mainly and even then it was subtle, soft, a sort of background noise.  Lately however, I have heard it more clearly, its sound more pronounced, each day, a little bit louder.   And now, the rhythmic thump, thump, thump, invades my thoughts, my dreams, my days.  Life’s heart beat.

Today is my youngest son’s promotion from eighth grade.

Nine years ago, just before school was about to start, he looked at me with his big brown eyes filled with fear and trepidation.  “Mom,” he said, “I don’t want to go to school.  I want you to teach me.   I want to be home-schooled.”  And I, despite my own healthy dose of fear and trepidation, encouraged him to stretch, to go forward, to try school, just for a few days.   It will be fine, I told him, hoping that it would be.  And of course it was.  He was ready.  I handed him off to his kindergarten teacher and when I was sure he was out of sight, I cried.

Thump.

A couple of years ago we were there again, moving from elementary school to junior high.  From youthful innocence to adolescence, the rocky path of independence stretched out in front of us.  And there in those big brown eyes was just the slightest bit of trepidation, of fear and of worry.   It will be fine, I told him, hoping that it would be.  And of course it was.  He was ready.  I dropped him off at the bottom of the hill and watched him walk up to school with his friends.  And again I cried.

Thump thump.

I’ve never been very good with transitions.  I’m a sentimental soul and I haven’t yet learned how to make it through life’s big moments without a box a tissues nearby.  I’ve cried through plays and concerts and first days of school, gotten bleary eyed at airports and the closing bonfire at summer camp.  The truth of the matter is, I’m not fond of saying goodbye.  Endings just aren’t my favorite part of the movie.

Thump thump.

Today I’ll file in with all the other moms and dads and watch as our kids make yet another transition, take yet another step in this journey of life.  Dressed in a crisp white shirt and tie and looking much more like a young man than the boy he once was, he will receive a certificate that marks the end of this chapter, the key that opens the door to the one that will come next. 

Thump, thump, thump.

And there in those big brown eyes will be just the slightest bit of trepidation, of fear and worry.  And I will say what I have said so many times before.  It will be fine.  He is most definitely ready.

I hope I remember to bring the tissues.