Down at the river’s edge, Mila lowers herself into the cool water after our steep climb. I notice the late summer shift in the river: more rocks revealed, water flows more slowly. Watching these gentle currents, a sense of melancholy rises in me.
August holds a bittersweet energy. It seems to accelerate life’s transitions—last-minute adventures, family moves, school preparations, relationship endings. August also carries so many of my own past grand transitions. It’s a sentimental time.
It’s no wonder that in moments of pause, I feel such emotion in my heart. My bones. My being.
I’m not ready for summer to end. Big transitions that have been shrouded in fun are now in clear view on my horizon. Mason’s already begun her journey across the country to Vermont. And Ellis—my baby—leaves for Purdue in just two weeks.
My heart is already practicing the ache of his departure. I find myself touching that tender part of my heart that will feel his absence, perhaps trying to prepare for what’s coming.
In conversations with friends, I’m reminded that this is the natural path forward, the way it’s meant to be. Yes, I nod, knowing this is true. I know this next chapter holds tremendous growth for Ellis. He is ready.
And honestly? Beneath the tender ache, I’m genuinely excited for him. For the adventures ahead, the person he’ll become, the independence he’s so ready to claim.
And there’s something else stirring—a quiet anticipation for what opens up for me and Ben. After years of our connection taking the backseat to the beautiful chaos of active parenting, we get to rediscover each other. Date nights without curfew negotiations. Spontaneous weekend trips. Long conversations that don’t get interrupted by teenage logistics. It feels like we’re about to reclaim a part of ourselves that’s been patiently waiting.
All that knowing and excitement doesn’t erase what I feel about the leaving. But it adds dimension to it—layers of both loss and possibility intertwined.💜
So I watch the cool water flow around the river rocks, noting the swirls, waves, and eddies formed by current meeting obstacle. I’m reminded that it’s all flowing and unfolding exactly as it should. This journey of life—the wild and beautiful ride—continues on, as it has for years and years and years.
Perhaps that’s the invitation in all of this: to fully savor these precious moments even as we feel the pull of what’s coming next. To let ourselves be present with both the sweetness of now and the anticipation of tomorrow, holding space for all of it without rushing toward or away from anything.💫
Alright, sweet friend, thanks for being here. Please take good care of yourself.
Riding the waves with you, Tener🌸
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