Here We Go...AGAIN!

It seems like just yesterday I was taking the scenic drive down the winding country roads to Junior Day at the college that Jana now calls home. There just aren't words for the shock of realizing that you have a child ready to leave for college. Everyday moments and the many big events of her senior year were marked with "this is it" or "last time". I just couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that we were here already. I knew it was coming, but I didn't know it would be at lighting speed!

Anna is a senior this year and for the most part, at least in the everyday things, I have been spared from being blind sided. I knew this was coming. I didn't cry on senior picture day. I didn't have a pit in my stomach the first day of school. I'm actually very excited for her because I know that God has many wonderful things in store. College preparations have been smooth. I've cherished the everyday moments because I know that this is the only time I will ever have with her as my oldest still living at home. I'm good.

NOT!!!

Scholarship Day at college was this past Saturday. We took the same winding roads and this time we were not alone. Anna's best friend who happens to be her cousin and her mom went with us for the testing and tours. This didn't start out as a particularly nostalgic day as the college was not first choice for either of the girls. We basically went because we love Jana and did not want to dismiss the place that is so much a part of who she is. We parked the van and with our usual very loud girly chatter we all got out to go register at Jewitt Hall. I turned around to say something to Robin and the very moment I didn't expect to have slipped up on me! Walking a few feet ahead were the two girls who have been best friends since they were side by side on a quilt in Nana's floor. Their heads were leaned in toward one another in the way it always is when they are walking and talking. The were nonchalantly taking their first steps away from us.

Why did I think I would be immune from the jolt of the beginning of the end of her girlhood. This child, the one I have spent thousands of hours with on the road to violin lessons, rehearsals and functions. The talks, the secret fast food fixes, the arguments, the she sleeps and I drive, the mass of curls across the seat, her hazel eyes so full of whatever she feels that day. To have her look at me and say, "Mama, this is it. I feel safe here" and to know that she is so independent she would never have said it if something hadn't taken hold of her will. She was the one who was moving to New York and never getting married, the one who swore she'd never give me grandchildren. But there she stood ready to be obedient to any change in her plans if that's what He wanted of her.

We're here again. This is our last Christmas with our beautiful, strong-willed second born before she only lives here half of the time. I knew it was coming, but I didn't know it would be at lighting speed!