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Times of Transition

Times of Transition

When an overriding theme seems to smack me in the face, well y’all know I gotta write about it.

This week has been all about the beauty and pain of life’s transitions.

The ending of a chapter and the beginning of another.

Last night I attended my daughter’s 8th grade graduation ceremony, followed a few minutes later, by my soon to be high school graduate’s senior dinner.

During my daughter’s ceremony, she gave a presentation to the audience.

She had worked hard preparing a speech and a short movie, involving many of her classmates mouthing the words to a poem she had written, with her voice dubbed over.

The poem was a music metaphor all about inclusivity – since the school’s catch phrase this year has been, “We are all in the band.”

She was poised and eloquent and even though I make it a rule never to tell my kids I’m proud of them…a longtime debate between me and my older two, I couldn’t help but to admit later that I was beaming with pride about her inner and outer beauty.

She cried a little when I told her.  I know she has waited a long time to hear those words and although you guys may disagree with my choice never to tell my kids I’m proud of them, I stand behind my reasons.

Because the truth is, I’m always proud of them and I don’t want them to think it’s conditional.

Even when my daughter and I fought this past week about superficial things, I was still proud underneath.

I feel immense pride to be a mom.

To be THEIR mom.

And as I sat last night next to my handsome 18-year-old son at his senior banquet, I beamed with pride as well.

Every smile on his face and inside joke I overheard him share with his buddies, or me for that matter, makes me kvell (the Jewish mama’s heart swelling term).

The head of the school gave a beautiful speech about his three young children that still want to hold his hand, snuggle with him in bed and share multiple “I love you’s” on the daily.

He told the seniors to sit in between their parents, hold our hands and tell us they love us.

Of course, as a proud “smother”, I pulled my six foot tall delicious son onto my lap.

As he held his dad’s hand, he laid his head back on my shoulder and we sat for a few moments cheek to cheek.

It brought tears to my eyes and does now even writing this.

I don’t get those types of precious moments with him like I did so often when he was little.

When he crept in to sleep with me nightly – leaving me hungry for my own space and slightly blurry eyed and irritable the next day.

Oh how I wish I could have just one more of those nights again.

Even though part of me mourns the ending of this era – middle school and high school…

A new exciting chapter begins…high school and college.

Times of transition are funny like that…death and rebirth.

Sadly, today marks the one year anniversary of a good friend’s passing.  She left three beautiful children just like I would if something tragic happened to me.

And sadly again, I will be attending another close friend’s husband’s funeral this afternoon.  He was a brilliant doctor at MD Anderson Cancer Hospital here in Houston and was such a generous and kind doctor, husband, father and son.

His daughter just graduated and is two days younger than my Alec. The kids have been like brother and sister since they were one.

When I think of these devastating losses, I can’t help but wonder what their rebirth looks like.  I really want to believe in that sort of thing but I’m not quite sure yet if I do.

Transitions are hard.  Change is hard.  Death is sad and heartbreaking and extremely confusing when amazing people are taken from their people that love and still need them.

And I know that each of these parents beamed with pride about their beautiful children just like I did last night.

Time is fleeting.  Carpe Diem.  Don’t let one more second go by living in a home filled with tension or complacency.  Take action and enjoy your people today.

And feel so fortunate that the miracle of you was born and is here to make the most of this glorious opportunity to live life to the fullest.

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