Five Minute Friday – Crowd

Five Minute Friday There is this space the opens up late on Thursday night into the wee hours of Friday morning where brave and creativity collide.  We call it Five Minute Friday.  One word.  Five minutes. No over-thinking or over editing. What we get is one astonishing piece of our hearts in pixelated wonder on a screen.  Click on the logo to the right and join us. 


How do pack up 18 years of a life into boxes?  How do you cram memories and pieces of home that will be used to make a new home and not feel like your heart is going to bust right open and spill right out? 
That’s exactly what we did.  18 years of life with a daughter stuffed into cardboard boxes and Rubbermaid containers, each one carefully labelled with Whidden Hall, the name of her new home.  We all crowded in the that red mini-van boxes and memories piled high to the ceiling and drove the ninety minutes down the road. 
We hauled boxes up flights of stairs, I cleaned mirrors and windows and did those things that only mothers do, organize and sort and make sure everything is just so.  We unpacked to the thrum of dreams that buzzed through air of the dormitory.  And when the last article of clothing was put away, the last poster hung and the last of the questions asked, we headed down the elevator.  
It was an awkward sort of dance as we said our goodbyes on the lawn of the university, my heart beating furiously outside my chest.  I would go home that night and for the first time in 18 years I wouldn’t know whether she made it home safe.  And as we hugged one last time, I grabbed my husband’s hand and we watched as our oldest got swallowed up by the crowd.  
I don’t think I’ll every forget that moment.  I moved from scared, to excited, to scared again and again.  For months she’d been perched, ready for flight and in one moment she spread her wings and flew. 
Later that night, I walked through the house, picking up remnants of her; the forgotten socks, the teddy bear, the picture of her at her prom.  I stood in the doorway to her room and felt the absence so keenly.  I wouldn’t hear the lock turn when she came in late at night, I wouldn’t hear her beautiful voice rising to the rafters of our home, I wouldn’t share chocolate or late nights, except on those rare visits home. 
And even though her absence is palpable – I know that she’s a phone call or text away.  I know that I’m still her go-to when the going gets tough.  
I know that even though I carried under my heart for nine months I’ll carry her in my heart for the rest of my life. 

{Pssst}  Did you know?  The lovely and beautiful Lisa-Jo Baker has a gorgeous new book coming out called: Surprised by Motherhood.  You are going to want to hop over here to pre-order your copy. It doesn’t matter if you mother littles, teens or the in-betweens… if you’re a mother, know a mother, want to be a mother you need to read this book.  

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