How Do I Let Him Go?

I'm sitting here holding my son's cap and gown.  He is graduating from high school on June 1st.  I know that's 10 weeks away yet, but I'm having a hard time with it. 

Back on July 15, 1993, he came into this world screaming, yelling, letting everyone and anyone know he was here and was hungry.  He's been eating ever since.  I didn't see him until July 16th.  He was a difficult birth that ended in an emergency c-section.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I remember everything like it was yesterday.  I had absolutely no experience with a baby, so the nurse had to show me how to hold him.  He was screaming when she brought him to my room.  She said talk to him and he'd stop.  My first words to my newborn son, "Hey baby".  He stopped crying and looked at me, stared at me, and there was our moment.  It wasn't at all like TV where you have sunlight coming in the window, and all the angels in heaven are singing while butterflies and white doves dance all around.  Just him in the crook of my arm, looking at me, trying to figure out what I was all about.  I was thinking the exact same of him.  How do I let him go?

It was at that same time, I gave him back to God.  I told God I knew this was His baby, given to me to care for as best as I could, and I begged Him to send angels to guard over him always.  As I spoke those words, I knew this child was my life.  I would love him forever, protect him always, do anything and everything I could for him including praying for him continuously.  How do I let him go?

The next 18 years are a blur.  The toddler years were typical.  Into everything, constant questions, "Wassat?" he'd whisper while pointing to a bug.  I answered to, "Mommom", and lost every game of "Hi Ho Cherry-O" and "Shoots and Ladders" that we played.  He would win with a giggle and a "Can we play again?"  Usually, it was bedtime so, the games ended with kisses and hugs and "I love you mommom" over and over again.  How do I let him go?

Pre-teen years ran quickly into the teen years.  Yes, the testosterone runneth over.  I got bumped from first place to last the first time he saw a girl run.  This was the time of braces, passing notes in school, and the first girl to break his heart.  He was so into baseball, basketball, all of it.  I was front and center on the bleachers.  He would look at me and give me a nod.  That was his way of saying, "I'm so glad to see you there, mom, just don't tell anybody you know me."  How do I let him go?

I've got 10 weeks, and a few weeks over the summer left with him.  He'll belong to the world once he leaves for college in the fall, and I'll be a thing of the past, except when he needs money, or something for his dorm, and I'm ready for that.  What I'm not ready for are the moments when I forget he's gone.  When I go upstairs during the night to check on him, and see the empty bed.  When I hear a noise in the kitchen and think it's him at the fridge, and it's not.  When I don't see his clothes in the laundry or trip over his shoes in the kitchen.  How do I let him go?

I let him go by letting him go.  It's time for him to fly, to leave the nest, to have a life of his own.  I'll always be here to help him stand up when life throws him down, but it will never be the same.  He has to go, so I'll let him.