18

I am now the parent of an adult. She’s officially all grown up, at least in the eyes of the law.

What does that mean, really?

Does it even mean anything?

I know that Alyssa doesn’t feel like it means anything. She’s still chomping at the bit for some freedom.

Alas, in the age of Covid, freedom doesn’t come easily for any of us.

I know she feels stifled by me and her dad. I know this and yet I can’t fix it for her.

She wants to make her own decisions and learn from her mistakes.

I get that. I really, really do. Which is why I don’t go check on her at 2am if I happen to be up to see why she’s still awake on a school night. She’s a big girl now (just ask her) and can handle being a little tired the next day if that’s the natural consequence of her not going to sleep earlier.

Eighteen year old Alyssa is a delight to be honest. She’s smart, she’s loyal. She works hard and wishes she had the freedom to play hard. She’s funny and kind. She can be snarky and fiercely defends me against her sister.

She loves with her whole heart and has so many talents. She can sing, play the flute and piccolo. She runs and does well in the high jump. She acts and draws and paints.

She finds humor in most things, can have a good cry and then turn the day around. Her friends vie for her time and attention because she gives all she’s got when she’s with you.

I am so grateful to have the honor of being her mother and watching her grow up into the beautiful young woman she’s becoming.

I want to be like her when I grow up.

First Last

On the morning of the first day of school, I was taking pictures of the girls, as one does.

I took pictures of them alone and together as we’ve done since the beginning of this schooling journey.

As I took one of Alyssa, I lamented in a tone of exaggerated despair, “This is your last first day of school.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

I laughed and said, “Just kidding. I’m not (mom who’d two kids graduated last year and the year before and who now posts all kinds of ‘empty nest’ posts on FB. She wails that her kids have left and she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Her kids went to the local university. They’re all of a half hour away from her house so…yeah.)”

Alyssa gave me a look of relief that I took as gratitude that I’m not going to embarrass her…yet.

See, it is a little bit sad. I mean, it’s gone so fast. It feels like last year she was the one in 7th grade. I remember thinking during her freshman year that it was all going to fly by and I was right. Sure, the last twenty two weeks of 2020 have crawled by but I can feel the momentum speeding up. I can feel her slipping away. I know this is what we want for her.

When one becomes a parent, the best thing you can hope for is that your child grows up and becomes an independent, well-adjusted adult doing things that make them happy while not being a menace to society.

I think we’ve managed that with Lyss. I mean, we still have a year to really mess her up if we want to but for the most part, she’s pretty much already molded into the model of responsibility and decorum. We’ve done our best and she’s pretty amazing.

But each of these ‘last firsts’ will be bittersweet. Already, because of Covid-19 she missed her last parade, the Kickoff Dance (which I don’t even think she attended last year) has been canceled for this year. She missed her entire junior year track season. So…we’ll cherish each ‘last first’ we get this year as they come and we won’t count on any of them until they happen.

I know I’m echoing what every parent before me has endured as they watched their chickens fly the coop. How lucky are we all that our kids are so amazing that they want to fly and they get to fly and that, if we’re lucky, they’ll come home sometimes and hang out with us, sharing their glories, their failures, their tears and their laughter. We’ve done what we can and now it’s up to them. But it’s nice to know that we can be a safe place to land if things ever get tough and they need to come home.

I’m just going to say it. Home is where your mom is.