It never gets any easier.

Watching my son go down the ramp to the TSA check this morning I realized...
It really doesn't get any easier, does it?!

Six years ago, when he was the ripe old age of 16, I sent him through International security on his way to Dublin... alone.
Ok, technically, he wasn't really flying solo.
His dance partner & her mom were on the same 10+ hour flight.
And a family full of friends was meeting him at Customs in Ireland.
But still... it was the first time I sent him off... without ME!

And I watched until I couldn't see him anymore.
I watched him sneak a glance over his shoulder; as he put his belongings into the bins; as he stepped through the scan; as he went of on a Grand Adventure.

The first of many.

I've lost count now of just how many times I have snuck in that extra hug; stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek; waited until he disappeared around that last corner; texted "Love you!" as I walked to the car.

He has grown into a fine young man.
He walks with confidence, not needing to sneak that last little glance.

But I still feel exactly the same way I did oh so many years ago.
And get all misty the entire ride home.
And hate walking into that house without him.
Even though I know it won't be all that long until he is back again; to fill the house with laughter & music & his brand of energy. There is always a little piece of me missing.

He has been gentle & patient with my learning to let go.
He has made me proud & taught me well.
And paved the way for his sister.
Because all too soon, she will be following in his footsteps.
Maybe not the same path, but the same process.

At least I know the ropes now.
Even though it won't get any easier... I'm ok with that.