It's Happening...

Last night I left home at 6:15 to sub for my old bunco group and came home a *new* member of said group.  Due to a member choosing to do what I did 5 years ago or so - and take a break from it, and my time "opening up at home" with kids leaving the nest every 2 years, well, it seems like a good idea.

When I got home, The Dad had been patiently waiting for me so that we could watch "Idol" and at some point, while I was telling him a story my pal KM2 just told me, Zach came bounding up the stairs.  He was printing papers here and there, needing the stapler, needing the 3 hold punch that one of his older brothers used 2 years ago about this time of year and didn't return it to it's home in my desk.  It has yet to be discovered in a room...  

I asked The Dad  what "we" were working so feverishly on and he said "He's presenting his Senior Project tomorrow morning."

MOTY - "WHAT?  Tomorrow?"

The Dad - "I guess so."

MOTY - <thinking...  'You think so?'>

MOTY - "Is he ready?"

The Dad - "Well I've heard him down there playing, so I guess."

The Moms and The Dads are so much different.  If The Son told The Mom that he was presenting his Senior Project, surprisingly, the next day... and The Mom knew The Son was playing the guitar, self taught, SHE would make a few excuses to need to do the laundry, or pick up the downstairs bathroom so that she could be a part, or know in her heart that The Son was ready, by sneaking a few "listens".  Or at least know if she needed to say extra prayers that night in the hopes The Son did well enough to pass.

The Dads scratch their bottoms, eat a few chips, watch SportCenter, go to the bathroom, come out of the bathroom, let the pets in, watch The Son run up and down the stairs, inquire "What's going on?" and when The Son replies "I'm doing my Senior Project tomorrow", says "Cool." and resumes the scratching, while sitting on the couch, watching SportCenter.  With chips.

It's true.  You know it is.

I didn't go to the club this morning.  Instead a ushered The Dad out of the bedroom to make a "good" lunch and I made The Son some muffins, got a plate, butter and all the "goods" out for him because this is "kind of a big deal."  He came up and grunted a few times, but I leaned up (okay, tiptoed up) to give him a good luck kiss on the cheek and told him "good luck."

And off he went.

I got this shortly after getting settled in at work today.  

He passed.  I wondered if he had played the song I heard him teaching himself a while back.  And I knew the meaning behind it.  And then and now it brings tears to my eyes. 

I don't know, and though I've asked (texted him) to inquire, he doesn't respond.  Perhaps that is my answer.  The unspoken.

It doesn't matter.  He taught himself the guitar, he worked hard, he changed while doing it.  He passed this "big" project that allows him to move on to the U next year.  

It means, aside from his AP tests - he's done.  He's going to grow up just like the other two.  It means he's leaving.  It means that the last one of these human beings that I've poured my heart and soul, tears, stress, laundry detergent, $$$, food, smiles, laughs, sports with... is headed to the next phase.  Which means a new phase for me.  

Everyone else always talks about how great it is - life without the kids around.  I've had to go thus far, and though it's easier, I gasp for breath when I know they're going to be pulling up at any second.  I miss them all of the time.  I wonder if I did things right.  I know I can't get time back and the bad is the bad... but it haunts me all of the time.  I love them too much, my husband has said... and it's true perhaps.  But I can't imagine my life without them in it and I'm struggling to know that I have to move on to a next phase. More than I struggle with their new adventures.

Congrats my Zachy.  If you want to live at home until you're 47, I'm all for it!  Don't tell The Dad I said that.