Grown and Flown

 Many times as a mom I've spent time documenting, memorizing and counting the firsts: first smile, first step, first day of school. But sometimes you don't know the lasts until they are passed: the last climb-in-your-lap snuggle, the last time saying amp-elope instead of antelope, the last time asking for help zipping a coat.

On Sunday, with a small "holiday weekend" congregation, Dallin was asked to sit at the sacrament table, which hasn't happened in a while. The current Priests Quorum has it covered and Dal has been busy leading the music as the chorister, so I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard him bless the sacrament, but as he knelt to pray over the bread I knew that this was a last...likely the last time he'd bless the sacrament in our home ward. I wanted to memorize his voice, his inflection, the feeling of gratitude that my boy is worthy to perform this ordinance on behalf of our ward. I remembered the first time he blessed it; I felt nervous for him, hoping he'd get it right, hoping he was ready, hoping we'd reviewed with him all the things he needed to know.

He's grown in height and maturity since then. He's become so responsible, so capable, so grown! And tomorrow he's flying from the nest, away from home to experience his first apartment, his first time in college, his first foray into adulthood. I'm feeling those same feelings: Will he get it right? Is he ready? Did we review with him all the things he needs to know?

This morning I woke up with an ache to hike, and I wanted Dallin to come with me. Luckily, he's easy to convince so we headed to Pulpit Rock after we dropped Annie off at school. We followed worn trails, winding our way toward the steep climb up the rock formation that overlooks our city: Dallin's home since kindergarten. He doesn't seem nervous to leave or worried about college. The anxiety is left for me to hold, as it always has been at each of his first steps onto new paths. His new paths have always been mine, too. His growing was my growing; his new phase ushered in a new chapter for me, too. Sometimes, I didn't feel ready. 

When he was four years old and out playing the front yard of our new home in North Ogden, he met the neighbor kids and raced in to say, "Mom, they all are playing with squirt guns. Can I get mine out?" And then "Mom, they are all having popsicles. Can I have one?" And lastly, "Mom, they are going to play on the playset next door. Can I go?" It was hard letting him out of the yard on his own that first time. I feel the same with this new phase of parenting an adult. Except I can't spy on him through the kitchen window to make sure he's doing okay.  I'm wondering if I'll get it right? Am I ready? Do I get a review of the things I need to know? Luckily for me, Dallin has always been a most patient first child, forgiving of my shortcomings and full of grace for all my foibles. I'm sure we'll navigate this new chapter together, like we always have, but separate, too, which will be new. 

Sending all my love, and a bit of my heart, to Idaho tomorrow with my baby boy. Love you, Dal!