I always knew it would happen some day. I just didn’t think it would be so soon. I mean, how did 20 years fly by so fast?
An arrow, like a child, isn’t meant to be forever stored in the shelter of its quiver. Or in a parent’s embrace. I’ve always known that my main job as a mom is to equip my children for solo flight. To “fletch” an arrow and prepare it to leave my bow and fly. On its own.
My head understands. But my heart isn’t there yet.
When our youngest son, age 20, left home recently, it caught me almost completely off-guard. One Sunday night he announced that he’d disenrolled from college after two years of study, got a new job with a major aerospace sub-contractor, and oh, “by the way Mom and Dad, I’m moving out on Friday.”
I hear “mid-lifers” crow about how much they’re enjoying their empty nest. The freedom! The flexibility! The fun!
“What in the fat are they talking about?” I wonder. When Josiah announced that he was moving out last month, I felt like someone had just sawed off my right arm.
Arrow From My Quiver: When The Last Fletch Flies is part of my “mom story.”
This brief, elegiac tome chronicles some of the roller-coaster emotions predicated by our son’s announcement and how I walked through them under a time crunch. Five days. Five short days.
One mom’s honest, unfiltered story of letting go. And how much it cost.