This is the time of year for leaving.

Maybe it’s because I work in an academic environment, but I’ve always looked at graduation time as a leaving, rather than a beginning. Yes, it's going on to something new and possibly exciting – but it's also leaving what is worn and comfortable, what is familiar, what you know and (sometimes) love.

I took my children out to dinner last week, a celebratory dinner. They’re triplets, and ever since the day they were born I’ve felt as if I was living life on a constant roller coaster. Everything happening times three, can you imagine that?

We were celebrating because each one of them had recently experienced individual significant accomplishments; significant enough to warrant a trip to the Outback, always our restaurant of choice for family celebrations such as these.

During dinner, our conversation returned to a familiar topic; one that looms large and seems to always be hovering over us lately; college. They still have another year of high school left so there’s time, but we’re making plans for summer visits, scoping out different locations, weighing choices.

And suddenly it hit me like a sledgehammer; they’re leaving. Leaving me times three.

Maybe it was that huge margarita I’d been sipping through a straw, but suddenly I felt a floodtide of emotion sweep over me. In a flash I welled up with tears – the very thought of them leaving me was like a triple stab to my heart.

I looked up and all three of them were staring at me, horrified at this public display. Cut it out, Mom! Jeez, you really are bi-polar like I said. One of them picked up a menu and just hid himself behind it, pretending to study it even though we had already ordered. Stop crying! Maddie will see you! (my son’s girlfriend who waitresses there) Much to their relief I instantly managed to pull myself together, and our dinner continued without further incident.

I highly recommend the Victoria Filet.

Happy Mother’s Day.

We are going through the same thing. My oldest daughter is still here but at age 19, she won't last much longer. Off she will go and then we will just be Mom and Dad, those old folks who live up in the valley. Our youngest is 16 and a junior. She is likely going to get a chance to play college volleyball somewhere after next year. Then it will be just me and my wife. Its scary really. As for the kids, I just want them to remember us every day and hope they make good decisions.I really don't know what we are going to do when the are all gone, who are we anymore? Not the same young adults that got married 20 years ago, thats for certain.

I am really starting to fully grasp what my poor mother went through with all of us boys back in the 70's. No wonder she was a nervous wreck...Happy Mothers Day Topazz, enjoy it while you can, we will....

Brutal little beasts.

I'm jealous.

..that memory will make them cry.

(Of course, if experience means anything, this revelation tends to occur about five minutes after their own children become realized. Talk about your beginnings.)

Happy Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

All of it - the gift of three, the stabs of pain. Yes it is just beautiful. My husband brought 2 with him, and we had three. All girls - one born every year: 1986, 1987, 1988.

Many hugs, many laughs and many stabs of pain later, I wouldn't change a thing. Not a single minute. Not a single tear.

We have the house pretty much to ourselves now.

But they come in and out. With the force of nature that is them.

And then it's quiet again. :)

A very happy mother's day to you!

And we had a steak dinner tonight, too, in celebration of another semester finished. There's a post bouncing around in here (you know, in here) on this, but it's not done yet.

night before last. She's coughing a lot more (much of the time, really), but her color looks ok (she's been on oxygen since they took the last piece of lung they could take), and her hair's grown back since she quit the chemo last year.

I won't see her this mother's day - I'll be out of town. I will certainly not be seeing her next year. She's leaving too, and all the insights, and enthusiasms, observations and passions she's developed over the years will be locked in the crystalline past - dynamic no more, except to the extent her children have internalized them. We had a nice visit, though. She isn't so afraid to die, I think, as she's sad about leaving. She doesn't know who is going to clean up all of her projects - she doesn't have the energy herself (but oh how that mind still burns so bright), and the thought of leaving the task to someone else (who might not appreciate her work) depresses her.

That's the sad nature of it - that we all get our turn, and then have to get out of the way. Your children are poised to take their's, as are mine. (I get to hang onto my daughter for a few years yet. You could borrow her for a little while though, if you want; I think her eighth grade year has been as traumatic for me as it has for her.)

My children have been the gravitational center of my universe for as long as they've been alive. It's difficult for me to contemplate their absence. I've been fortunate enough to hang onto my son a little longer than I might've (he's nineteen now), but I can see him finding his feet and getting ready to stretch his legs. I find the prospect quite thrilling. And quite poignant.

It's natural to be sad, when you're losing something so central to your priority set. Your kids don't really feel it (unless they have those moments of longing for the parental nest that I remember) because they get to take you with them, as part of who they've become, in a way you got to take your parents, (but don't get to take your children). Sounds like your kids are nearly ready to launch themselves out of the nest.

Happy Mother's day, Topazz, and well done.

My rugrats went back to school last night.

They are going to be attending in the summer now, too.

I got 6 days

6 fucking days

LIfe is an incredible ride, there is no doubt. I can only wonder at the lives led by some very old people. My sister in laws grandmother is 101 years old. Her mind is sharp, very sharp despite her inability to hear well. I once asked her what the most incredible thing she ever did was. She answered climbing Half Dome. In 1922. She beat all the men up it. No ropes, no trail really, just a bunch of young kids going up the most incredible mountain in Yosemite in 1922. I wonder if we will say the same thing if we survive until we are 101 years old. What will sound truly amazing at that age? It will be something really simple, like cheap water or being able to go to the beach without paying or having wild animals running around or driving cars or using phones....life is a strange trip. I just hope I can survive it long enough to enjoy my children living as adults with husbands, children and lives of their own.

Happy Mothers day everyone....

hopefully (when they can afford to take me) we'll graduate to Ruth Chris at some point. Looking forward to reading your end of semester post.

Please tell me we’ll live long enough to experience that poignancy. * sigh *

I won’t even tell you how I spent my junior prom. You don’t want to know.

They’ll break my heart, won’t they. Each and every one of them. That’s ok. Else what’s a heart for?

(They’ll come back you know. With more respect and questions and some day children. It’s the way of such things).

I know how you feel, bite. My oldest daughter is taking courses this summer too, and staying in Philadelphia - but this last year with the other three will be over in the blink of an eye.

I like to think any mother not exhibiting bi-polar tendencies towards her children obviously isn't doing her job.

I'm sorry to hear about your mother, FB - its never easy to come to terms with that. My mother is ailing too, and every holiday finds me wondering if she'll be there for the next.

Well said. Thanks for the lovely reply.