I didn’t know

I've known since that first week when we brought him home from the hospital that time moves fast. You didn’t have to tell me that “the days are long, but the years are short.” I already knew.

I felt (still feel) annoyed when people say, “You’re going to miss these days!”
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I knew.
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I know.
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Even on the hardest days of raising three children, I’d reverse the clock and do it all again, and again. That’s just me. I love having my children close to me, even when in the same breath I want them to get out of my face and just. give. me. a. minute.
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What I didn’t know is that when you drive your son to the high school to pick up his schedule and his books, how close those babyhood years still feel. How closely connected I’d still feel to his tiny, dependent self; connected to that younger version of me.
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I also didn’t know that just when the conversations start to get really fun and interesting, they're ready to leave the nest. Ready to leave before they can even drive. Ready before I am ready.

I’ll never be ready.
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I knew that the years go by fast. I didn’t know that each year just gets faster.
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Recently though, I realized something surprising: when you begin to let them go they discover, on their own, the part of themselves that feels connected to home. The part of them, that—no matter how far away they go—knows they can always come back. ✨