Another Bridge to Take

In the song “This Ain’t Goodbye” by Train, there’s a lyric that brings me to tears. Every time he sings, “Another bridge to take on the way to letting go” I think about how hard it is to release my grip when I want something to stay the same.

But as we all know, life means change. Stages and seasons and growth and pain and learning to let go, over and over and over again. I really kind of hate this. You’d think we’d get better at this as we age, but some things give me a lump at the base of my throat, and keep me awake at night, and cause me to cry when I least expect them to.

One of those things is my youngest child graduating from high school. William has his school dinner/dance this weekend, and his commencement ceremony in a few weeks. This is a big bridge to take. When Ava graduated three years ago, I thought to myself, “William is only in grade nine. There’s lots of time left with a kid at home.”

And now the day is almost here. It’s a time to celebrate all that he’s achieved, and how bright his future looks ahead of him, but as the mom and dad, it’s also a time to grieve the end of his childhood. I’m really feeling the truth of the saying, “When raising children, the days are long but the years are short.”

With all of these significant life transitions (or another bridge to take on the way to letting go), I do my best to prepare emotionally ahead of time. I really do. But there’s anticipation, and then there’s experience. The two are never the same thing, which is another thing I hate because I have no choice but to walk through it when the time comes. Advance preparation only gets me so far, and then the only way out is ever through.

Another one of these bridges I had to take this month was when Ava decided to fly to New York City on her own and stay in a shared-room hostel near Central Park. We suggested she go with a friend, but after our family Europe adventure last summer she wanted to try a solo trip. In theory, I thought this was a fabulous idea, and very brave when you are only twenty-one. In reality, I worried about her until she arrived home safely—feet sore from walking the city at all hours and full to the brim with excitement and stories and joy from managing everything on her own.

These are important foundational experiences for our children to undertake. They have to learn that the world is a big place and they can be smart and travel safely within it. But for the parents, this involves a lot of letting go. Of being there when our kids need us, but not taking over every arrangement so they have their own chance to lead and to shine. It’s exciting. And hard. It requires us to give up some semblance of control, and to lean into trusting our grown kids.

I’m taking a lot of bridges right now, with both of my kids, and I’m slowly (so slowly!) learning to let go of them. Like so many parents, I’m proud, and I’m sad, and I’m a bit lost, and I’m celebrating at exactly the same time. We never stop learning how to adjust to these changing seasons.

Happy graduation weekend to you, William! Congratulations, and we love you.

Happy 18th Baby Girl

Of parenting, Gretchen Rubin said, “The days are long but the years are short.” This was a guiding principle for me when my kids were young. Now that they are both teenagers, I find the days to be as short as the years. Once they were out of the preschool season, time seemed to speed up, like it was set to fast forward.

Now Ava is about to turn 18. I’ve been sad about it since September, when I found a new counsellor to work with as I attempt to prepare for her to move out of our house. It takes me a long time to manage change. When she leaves for university in late August, I want to be past my own complicated feelings and into excitement for her as she launches into her own life. I can glimpse this possibility, but I’m not there yet, so I’m glad I started a year in advance.

All I know for sure right now is that I will really, really miss her. We all will. On the weekends, I listen to her and William laughing from the basement as they play Jedi: Fallen Order on his Xbox. Each interaction with Ava feels more precious now. Sharper, more defined, and meaningful. Our house will have a gaping hole in it when she’s not here every day. I find it really hard to even imagine.

At the same time, because life is endlessly complicated and nuanced, I’m thrilled to see Ava inching into her own independence. It’s an exciting time, with university acceptances and academic excellence scholarships and a new driver’s license and a sneaking sense of pride that maybe we haven’t done too badly after all in raising her. My best friend’s mom always said that the goal of parenting is to take a dependent baby and turn them into an independent adult. By that measure, I’m incredibly proud of Ava on this milestone 18th birthday.

She’s fun, warm, smart, responsible, goofy and empathetic. Our lives are so much better because she’s in them. I try to remind myself that she’s not going into outer space, only to university, but it’s still a massive sea change for our family. And I know that many other families have done this and survived it, but thinking about your child moving out one day in the future and walking through it are two different things. But we are right on the edge of this change, peering out at it, and I feel so many things at once.

You are so loved, baby girl. Watch out, world. Ava’s finishing up grade twelve, in this never-ending groundhog day pandemic, and then she’s jumping into her adult life with intense enthusiasm and spirit. It will be a fascinating adventure, and we are here for you always. Happy 18th birthday!