Yesterday, my older son came home for a visit from college bearing a suitcase full of laundry for his mother to attend to. It was the same day on which my daughter suited up in crisply-creased clothes to go to an interview for a college internship. Meanwhile, my younger son borrowed my car because I had dropped his off at the mechanic for repairs ... he was off to pizza and a movie as part of the "best buddies" program in high school.
Now and then, it sweeps over me: How did all this happen? Where was I while these children went from tricycle-riders and spinach-haters to being tall and strong and self-involved in more-adult ways? Almost simultaneously, I can remember older people pinching my cheek affectionately and saying what sounded ridiculous ... "You're getting so big!" I can now see where they were coming from. Now I pinch my own cheek wryly and think, "You're getting so small!"
Things may be as they are, but I can't muster the energy to fault marveling at them and wishing, wishing, wishing.