Launched.

The eldest child has left the building.

The other day, my man and I dropped our almost-22 year old university graduate off at the airport, said our farewells at the curb and watched him walk into the terminal to board his one-way flight to Sydney, Australia.

And just like I did after so many drop-offs, I got into the car and wept. Happy for him. Sad for me. Proud of him. And, to be honest, kind of proud of myself for raising such a brave and adventurous soul. When I was 22, I too boarded a one-way flight. Mine was to London, England for what was the beginning of a back and forth lifestyle until I returned to Toronto in time to celebrate my 31st birthday. 

I tell myself that if my mom could handle it, so could I. And that was before cel phones and facetime and whatsapp. Back then, we thought it was amazing when I could fax her rather than just call collect and hope she was home to answer.  

But Oz is truly a land far, far away. The time and money to get there is a long way from the Toronto – London flight path and time change. My mom used to come see me a few times a year, and I came home on a somewhat regular basis. It didn’t even occur to me that she might cry tears of joy and pain with each flight, though she did get a little salty every time I packed my bag, and she never did drive me to the airport… 

Raising our kids really is a particular kind of torture. We love them as hard as we can and then send them away and hope for the best. Like some kind of break-up, we never know when “the last time” will be. We just accept that they no longer try to sneak into our beds, or grab our hands, or call out for us at any time day or night. The need recedes. When Leo left for University, it was “the end of the beginning”. His childhood, as we knew it, was over. But this is something else entirely. This is a one way trip to adulthood, to making and living with his own choices. There is no graduation date. It’s just forward propulsion until he lands somewhere. Somewhere, hopefully, somewhat close to home. 

Yes. We still have two more birdies in our nest, though one is more than halfway through university with big travel plans on the horizon, and the other is finishing up his last year of high school and trying to figure out what’s next. And, no, just because we’ve gone through it with the first one, it is not any easier with the second. Or, soon enough, the third.  Our family dynamic is in a constant state of flux as each one comes and goes, bringing with them noise and mess and very large shoes. We get used to them being back, and then they leave again and we re-learn how to be a smaller unit. And so it goes, over and over again, leaving stretch marks on my heart with each contraction and expansion, each goodbye and welcome home…

Lucky me.