The End of an Era

Our backyard playscape has sat empty and unused for a number of years now. The toddler for whom it was built is now a 16-year-old. The swings, ladder, tower, and sandbox call out for little ones to play with them. Fortunately, the rector of our church and his wife have two young and energetic children who would love to have their own backyard playground.

So on a rainy Sunday afternoon, volunteers arrived to disassemble it and move it to its new home. The move gives me pause to reflect on the passing of the years.

A lonely playscape

We were living in a condo in our Connecticut town 17 years ago when I found out I was pregnant. Our son arrived on a sunny June day in 1999. The condo was a perfect home - for a while. We knew we needed a yard for our little one. The real estate market was good to us, and we quickly sold the condo and purchased our current home.

Moving is hard on a little one. To make the transition a little easier, we promised that as soon as spring arrived, we would build him an awesome swing set.

The swing set in its heyday on my son's 4th birthday

I was an older mommy and there were to be no more babies, so I was fortunate to be able to stay home with my son for six years.I look back on  them as some of the happiest of my life. Not everyone can make that choice or wants to, but it was right for us.

The swing set was often swarming with children from the neighborhood. It hosted birthday parties and heart-to-heart talks. It was a launch pad for tiny plastic paratroopers, a pirate ship, and the Millennium Falcon. Those interests have given way to basketball, baseball, and now cars.

Moving Day

I am proud of the man my son has become. The pudgy toddler has been replaced by a tall, lanky, teen. He is kind and thoughtful to others. He has a sharp sense of humor and is a solid student in school. I have watched him bloom this year with an interest in theater production. He joined the high school's Unified Theater program, where he worked with students of varying abilities (check out the hashtag #katygaga on Twitter to see what his group did for one of their own).

So the empty space in the backyard represents growth, both for my son and me. I look back fondly on the warm, sunny days spent in our own backyard fantasy land. I look forward to the new adventures to come.I hope the swing set's new owners enjoy it as much as we did.

The Return of the Pilgrim

My typical weekday afternoon conversations with my 15-year-old son usually go something like this:

Me: How was school today?
Boy: Good. (exits to play basketball in the driveway)

Or this:

Me: How was school today?
Boy: (grunting noise; exits to play basketball in the driveway)

So it was a slightly new and improved teenage son I encountered upon his return home from a seven-day trip to Oregon this week, one who was a bit more outgoing and confident. He traveled west with his church youth group on a pilgrimage that has been two years in the making. It was the first time he'd traveled for any great distance or time without a parent or other family member with him.

It was interesting to hear him speak with great animation, detail, and excitement about exploring tide pools on the Oregon coastline, about the beauty of the waterfalls he saw along their hiking trails, and about "riding the bull" on the rapids of the DesChutes River. There are photographs of that last one. It involves riding the raft with your legs hanging over the front of the raft. In one, all I could see were his feet and rushing whitewater. It was all safe and properly supervised, but I think I have a couple of extra gray hairs.

 He also led the group in a vespers service one evening and presented their local leader with a group gift. On the way home, during a layover in Chicago's O'Hare Airport, the boy saw former University of Connecticut basketball star D'Andre Daniels. He introduced himself to Daniels, told him how much he enjoyed watching him during UConn's epic run to the national championship last spring, and asked him to pose for a picture of the two of them together.

All of this adds up to a boy becoming a man who is comfortable in his own skin. I probably will never hear every detail of the trip. There are some things that belong just to him. But I had two big fears as I put him on the plane last week: 1) That he would miss me and 2) That he wouldn't. Neither of my fears came to pass. He thoroughly enjoyed his experience and returned home happy to see me.

I think I handled all of this quite well.

The Road to Independence

I knew there would be days like this.

From the moment the doctor placed my newborn son in my arms and I held him close in the dimly lit delivery  room, I knew my job. It was to get him out of my arms, on his feet, into the world as an independent man. The road to independence has had many steps. both big and small. The first solid food, the first step, giving up diapers (yay!), the first day of kindergarten. We have progressed on to bigger and more important steps - the first day of high school, the first driving lesson.

Today was a big one: the first trip away without family. Without me. Now 15, my son embarked on a pilgrimage this morning with our church's youth group, called Journey to Adulthood. It is something his group has worked and prepared for for two years. This morning the seven teenagers and three adult leaders left for Portland, Oregon, where they will spend the week hiking, sightseeing, working, having fun together. It is neither vacation nor missionary trip, but rather an opportunity to experience God and their faith in a different way.

A million instructions came to my mind last night as he completed his packing. Don't forget your retainer. Don't forget to wear your retainer. Don't forget your phone. Don't forget your phone charger. Don't forget to charge your phone. Do you have your wallet, ID, money? It goes on. For this week, he is (mostly) on his own to get through life. He might make a few mistakes, but his leaders are there. They are loving and responsible, and I trust them completely.

But this morning I had to loosen my grip a little more on that tiny newborn baby who looked up at me with those big, brown, trusting eyes. I did not embarrass him by crying at the airport. I saved that for later.

I know there will be more days like this.