In the Blink of an Eye

 

I turned down the long drive and surveyed the situation. A new school means a new drop off lane to navigate and attempt to get through without delay. Molly had her new sage-green backpack in her lap, ready to put on when we got to the front of the line. The outfit she'd picked out looked nice, and so did the hairstyle she asked me to do for her before we left. As we got closer to the front doors, I gave her the standard mom lines that we say as much to ourselves as to them. 

"Okay well, have a good day! Don't be nervous, you got this. Have fun, and I can't wait to hear all about it when I pick you up."

"Thanks, love you!"

And she got out. She didn't look back as she headed in to her first day of Middle School. My heart tightened as I pulled away and headed up the long drive out. 

First day of school. 

Many moms struggle this week as they realize just how fast time really does go. At first, you don't believe it, at least I didn't. When you're knee deep in babies and toddlers, you feel like the days crawl by. But there are events along the way that remind you just how fast it's actually going. And the first day of a new grade is an undeniable signpost that they really are growing up. 

During certain seasons, they seem to age years overnight. I feel like this pre-teen age that Molly is in now is one of those seasons. Physically, she's now the same size as me--shoes and clothes. And emotionally, mentally, I'm amazed at how perceptive she is, how mature she's become. I catch myself looking at her wondering where my little girl went. 

We've gotten so close, our little family. And with me being home, Molly and I especially. I'm going to miss my not-so-little sidekick this school year.

 

And I think that's why us moms struggle with this week. It reminds us that the sand is falling through the hourglass on our time with our children. They won't be ours forever. Babies don't keep, as they say, and neither do children. They become teenagers in the blink of an eye, and I assume, adults in the next blink. Someday, we're going to have to watch them go, and just be a supporting role in their lives. 

And at the same time this season, my heart never stops aching for the one that's not going back to school, not growing up. 

I took Molly shoe shopping before her first day. I watched her carefully select the color she wanted, and her face light up with a smile as she looked at them on her feet. 

I loved seeing her excited and happy. 

I looked over at the family next to us trying on shoes. Their son had an almost identical look on his face as his mom tied the laces. Is he about 9, like Drew would be? My heart sunk. 

What shoes would Drew have wanted to get for his first day of 4th grade? Would he be all about Converse, too, or maybe another brand? I wonder how big his feet would be by now. On his way to size 13 like his dad, I'm sure.

All last week I asked myself these and similar questions. Would he have cared what his first day outfit was, or would have just put on whatever was top in his drawer? How would my mornings look if I was dropping off kids at two different schools? 

As I drove home on that first morning of school with tears streaming down my cheeks, I wished I had got the chance to know the answers to these questions as they rang through my head again. 

Drew never went to school. He didn't have any teachers that got to know him, but anesthesiologists. I never packed him a lunch, but I filled many, many feeding tube bags with formula. The only backpack he ever wore constantly was one that carried his feeding pump around. The closest thing to "classmates" Drew had were kids in the same stage of treatment on the peds floor. 

 

I'm sorry you never got to do any of this, Drewy. I'm sorry you didn't get to pick out new shoes, organize your school supplies, go to a Meet the Teacher night. Sorry you spent so much of your short life feeling awful, watching the world go by without you...

 

By the time I got home, I realized it wasn't just Drew I felt sorry for, I was also sorry for myself. I wanted to do these things with him, too. Why does everyone else get to see their children grow up, while I had to give one back? 

Anger isn't an emotion I have felt a lot in my grief. For whatever reason, I don't usually feel resentful or bitter. I think my faith plays a big role in that. But this week, I'm a little mad that my son isn't starting school too. That I don't have a picture of smiling siblings together on my step from the first day, like all the other moms. I'm upset I can't just be sentimental like everyone else, but instead have this heavy burden of grief on top of it. I know there are moms reading this who have lost a child that know exactly what I'm talking about.

Before the first day of school, we had a wonderful summer packed with time with friends and family, hikes in the mountains, vacation to Las Vegas, house projects, movie nights, good food, and new experiences. Last week, we made a list of all we'd done this summer. We smiled and laughed as we recalled the memories made together. 

But as always, the great joy wasn't without a little sorrow. The pleasure, without a little pain. Would Drew have been able to make the hike to Delicate Arch? How wonderful if ALL the Grove cousins could be together. I'm sure Drew would have loved the Rodeo in Estes Park! Could he have helped Molly cook a meal once a week for us all? 

That empty chair at the table, the empty seat in the car, haunts us every time.

One of the things Molly and I did this summer was go through a study on the book Heaven, by Randy Alcorn. It's a really interesting and informative book on what the Bible actually says about Heaven. Based on Jesus's teachings and stories from both the Old and New Testament, it gives a lot of detail on what we know about the Present Heaven, and the Eternal Heaven on the New Earth. 

All summer we explored various concepts and realities of what awaits believers both right after we die, and in the age to come. One idea discussed was that we will continue to be learners on the New Earth. God made us naturally curious, with a thirst for knowledge. He put into us the drive to explore and to discover. We can reasonably expect we'll have those same urges in Heaven, and they will forever be satisfied. 

So, if learning is a trait God created and encourages, education must be as well. Molly and I talked through this one morning and decided it wasn't a stretch to think that there will be schools on the New Earth, and who would attend them? Maybe the children who never attended one before. All the sons and daughters who never had a first day of kindergarten on this side of Heaven. It would fit in with the idea of redemption. That this opportunity will be redeemed.

I reminded myself of this hope that first morning of school. It's a hope not just for Drew, but for me. Maybe I will get to take my son to school after all. To be proud of him when he gets a good grade on a test, to cheer him on as he makes his first basket on a rec basketball team. To see him grow from a little boy into a young man in the blink of an eye. 

It would be a dream come true. I think there will be a lot of those in Heaven. 

I remember back in Minnesota hearing the perspective of a mom who was in the last stages of parenting. Her youngest was going to college in the fall, and she was asked how she was doing with that. Her response was encouraging. Her daughter was a confident, independent young woman who will do just fine. This was the goal all parents are working towards since their kids are born: to make them functioning, successful adults. She was happy for her daughter and satisfied that her and her husband had fulfilled their role as her parents.

It's a perspective we all can find encouragement from, especially this time of year. If we keep the end game in mind, as this mom did, we all can meet our sentimental feelings on the first days of school with determination as well. We have a job to do, and each year, we are getting closer and closer to completing it. But maybe that's what scares us, too. We can see it happening. They need us less and less. They don't look back when they get out of the car anymore. And that hurts our mom hearts. 

When I think of the progress of getting Molly ready for the world, I am filled with gratitude and optimism. I know we still have time, and a way to go on multiple fronts, but I can see it. By the grace of God, we are on the right track. She is already a strong, confident girl who has a lot of compassion too. I can't wait to see what God will do in her life, from a supporting role. 

 

And you know what? I guess I could say the same about my Drew, and even go a step further. If our job was to get him ready for the world, make him confident, independent, and successful, I guess we did that, didn't we? He handled so much more than most of us will ever have to with strength and love. He brought others joy and taught them about life without even trying. And when it was time for him to go, he wasn't afraid, he didn't look back. 

So, I guess I can sit here, on this first full week of school, with peace. Even though I'm a little sad, there is comfort. Yes, Molly's growing up and needing me less, but that just means we're doing our job. I can savor these days, make the most of them, and have no regrets when it is time for her to start her own life. 

And I can have peace, along with hope, that the firsts I'm missing with my Drew will be redeemed someday, that they aren't lost forever. We accomplished the job God had for us as parents in preparing Drew for the next life, beyond this one. 

I dry my tears and head out the door to pick up Molly with the expectation that keeps me going every day: we will get to be with our Drew again, in just a blink of an eye 💖