Milk Cartons, Tears and a Change in Seasons
(In my September post at Inspire a Fire, I reflect on the change of seasons in life and reminisce about the day I sent my baby to school.)
Homemade cheesebread with marinara sauce.
“Oh no, what if Lewis can’t open his milk carton?”
Those were the first five words on the back-to-school lunch menu and that was the thought that ran through my head sending a fresh waterfall of tears down my face. Yes, I read the school lunch menu and cried. And cried. And cried.
That was several years ago, but I remember it like it was several blinks ago.
Lewis was (and still is) my baby. The one I had to myself for four years while his brothers were in school. The one who sang wonderful made-up songs, daily made me laugh out loud and liked to wear the same way too small orange shirt. Every. Single. Day.
The one who wasn’t supposed to grow up.
What if he can’t open his milk carton? What if he gets lost? What if he gets hurt and wants his mommy? What if he gets tired and needs a nap? There was no end to the (often irrational) thoughts that filled my head as I sent my little man off to begin his own life adventures.
But I know deep down the reason I kept crying was not because Lewis might not be able to handle school. It was because I might not be able handle life without Lewis…
Head on over to Inspire a Fire to read the rest of the story – Milk Cartons, Tears and A Change in Seasons