Celebrated mother’s day on the heels of a new book pubbing and the eve of a son’s college graduation; naturally, it was a mother’s day ripe for philosophizing and if one were so inspired, sentiment. And although it was a happy day full of laughter and comfort, all I could think of were Anna Quindlen’s words, “…all my babies are grown now.” A bittersweet mother’s day and not because of the company (my daughter and husband) or the food (Tabla-what could be more interesting) but because of the juxtaposition. There I was, celebrating with two of my three ducks, and thrilled at the prospect of my third duck finally leaving the wilds of the dairy land (Wisconsin) and coming home in a couple of weeks but still sad at the idea that it is yet another ‘last’. My last child leaving school. A few weeks ago I remarked to a friend whose daughter was finishing her last days of high school, ‘take care, the ‘lasts’ come fast and furious now.’ And indeed they do.

It is with heavy and happy heart that we prepare to fly to witness and honor and yes, celebrate, this achievement, but I can tell you, I lament that there will be no more orientations, move-in days, roommate angst, class conflicts. No more debates about monthly stipends, spring break, and summer jobs. No more worries about party poker or beer pong, or the girl from down the hall who may or may not be good for him. This whole person belongs to the world now and will mostly make his own way. Surely there will be first apartments and in my son’s case, law school, so the student is still prolonged but I don’t kid myself, it’s his journey now, as out of my hands as it could be. I celebrate and am awestruck by the young adult he’s become; an incredibly positive addition to society if I do say so myself, but I confess to this one last remnant of an ache; I wish I had him back for just a little bit. Just one bath where his golden curls twisted into circles, one lunch where he plastered little pasta shells onto his nose, even one tantrum where in his case, his angriest act was declaring that he was going to sleep! I celebrate the man as I miss the little boy and it is with tissues and smiles that I go to sleep tonight, the night before we fly to mark this achievement, an achievement that belongs not just to him but to his father, who guided him through the missed at bats and the insecure teens, his sister, who tolerated his obsessive toddler devotion and awkward high school obnoxiousness, and to me, who loved every wonderful, awful, memorable moment of his last twenty-two years. Last night I had two of my three ducks, and two better ducks there couldn’t be, unless there are three, which there soon will be. And ultimately, that’s what I’ll cling to, the best part of this ‘last’. That at last, I’ll have all my ducks in the same general pond, almost in a row. Lucky me.