I saw a funny post on social media about how to take your child to college. It was a picture of a mother wearing sunglasses with a piece of tissue wedged beneath each lens. Yes.
When I think of the many tears I cried as I anticipated Paige leaving home, I realize now that this was a little indulgent. Going to college was such a positive thing for her, and memories are not lost when a child leaves. In fact, memories improve with time. Yet those tears were part of my own steps to grow in understanding.
During the turbulent weeks of uncertainty leading to Daniel’s evacuation from his mission during Covid lockdowns and international borders closing, I felt so much fear, but now I know there was no danger. Yet that anguish and loneliness were understood and met as I prayed and meditated during those awful weeks. These were the weeks when I really learned about the ministering of angels.
The tears for Tim’s growing up have arrived. Perhaps these tears will seem unnecessary when I look back on them, and surely this ache I feel should be tempered with experience and perspective, but I can’t always be reasonable. I don’t feel less with time, I might actually feel more. Certainly, each experience of preparing children to leave home is unique and each child is loved so individually. How can I possibly think that I have any of this “down” and handle it any other way?
While my tears and feelings of loss may be like a child’s fear, unfounded and illogical, these are times when I learn the most about my children and my own status as a child of God.
I am loved enough that God sends help when I think there is danger, even when He knows there is no danger. He sends comfort when I fear things that He knows are unreasonable. Our Heavenly Parents understand our feelings because they have loved and said goodbye to each of us and know all about this part of the experience. Through tough goodbyes, I am given a gift of discernment to know how special each child is, not just to me, but to a larger circle than I can see.