One Last Dance

The other day Eric and I were talking, and it occurred to me that I'm not aware off the official last time I picked either of my boys up.  I mean physically picked them up (I pick Gage up from work far more often than I'd like).  You know though, to comfort them, for a hug, to dance... Did I know it would be my last time when I picked them up that final day? I doubt it or I would have emblazoned it into my mind. I would have made some sort of note of it.  I probably would have eaten far too many things I shouldn't have eaten to help stifle the sad, empty longing of just another thing I have to let go of.

 How did the years slip through my fingers? How did I already run out of chances to pick them up for a hug? Just typing this out makes me melancholy and I find myself missing those moments when I didn't even realize I'd been missing them.  We have all heard the cliché about it how quickly the time of babies and toddlers passes, but I never dreamed it would whip by this fast.  I look back on the past 17+ years after becoming a mother and so much has happened.  So much has changed, however the one consistency was my boys.  But my how they themselves have changed and I've not been acutely aware.

I don't have many regrets when it comes to how I've parented them.  Right or wrong in other people's eyes, they are turning out just fine. They are becoming people I not only love, but actually like! That being said, I kind of regret taking their years with me for granted.  Is that the right word?  I'm not so sure.  I just figured there were so many more years ahead of us.  Me and them. Them needing me.  Me secretly needing them. As Gage heads into Grade 12 this year I can't help but wonder if I have only this short school year left before he moves out.  Out of my house. Out of my fold.  My stomach is already in knots merely thinking about it.  Will he miss me like I'll miss him?  Gah, so many feelings!

It makes my heart hurt to now be consciously aware that in all probability the next time someone needs to be physically carried, our roles will likely be reversed. I hope my boys will remember all those times I carried them.