Letting Go and Holding On…
The Last One: A Season of Letting Go and Holding On
There’s something about “the last one” that feels different.
Not more special - because every child, every milestone, every goodbye has held its own weight and meaning - but different in a way that’s hard to fully explain until you’re standing in it.
The last graduation.
The last round of senior events.
The last time your home holds the rhythm of a child finishing high school.
And just like with the ones before her, I find myself in that familiar, tender space -
so incredibly proud… and quietly grieving at the same time.
The Bittersweetness of It All
I know I will miss her.
Just like I’ve missed each of the ones before her in their own way. The everyday moments. The noise. The routines that once felt so full and sometimes overwhelming - but now, you’d give anything to relive, even just for a minute.
And yet, alongside that ache is excitement.
Because I’ve also seen what’s on the other side.
Growth. Independence. Becoming.
I’m excited for her - just like I’ve been for all of them before her.
That’s the tension of motherhood, isn’t it?
Holding both joy and sadness in the same breath… and somehow making peace with both.
Becoming Empty Nesters
This one feels big.
Not just because she’s graduating - but because with her goes the final piece of a season that has defined so much of our lives.
And because this is a second marriage…we never got that time just the two of us before. Now we will.
We’re becoming empty nesters.
And that phrase can feel heavy… if you let it.
But what I’m realizing is this:
You never stop being a parent.
You just change how you parent.
It becomes less about managing schedules and more about being a safe place.
Less about daily presence and more about intentional connection.
Less about guiding every step and more about trusting the foundation you’ve built.
And there’s something really beautiful in that shift.
The In-Between Summer
There’s a sacredness to this summer.
The space between high school and what comes next.
The in-between of what was and what will be.
It’s not quite the same as before - but not fully changed yet either.
And if I’m honest, this might be one of the trickiest parts.
Wanting to soak in every moment…
Without holding on too tight.
Wanting to be present…
Without making it heavy.
Wanting to protect time…
While also giving space.
There’s no perfect formula for this.
Just a quiet awareness that these moments matter - and a gentle reminder to let them unfold naturally.
How Fast It All Goes
Everyone tells you it goes fast.
And you believe it… but you don’t know it until you’re here.
Until you’re looking at your child - grown, capable, ready - and wondering how you got from first steps to this moment in what feels like a blink.
The years are long… but the seasons are short.
And this one?
This one feels like both a closing chapter and the start of something entirely new.
A New Season for Me, Too
This year, becoming an empty nester while also stepping into a new decade (50, y’all!!)… feels right.
Big.
Exciting.
A little unknown - but in a good way.
There’s a freedom here that I didn’t expect to feel so clearly.
More space.
More time.
More opportunity to rediscover parts of myself that have been quietly waiting.
It doesn’t take away the love or the missing.
It just adds a new layer to who I am becoming.
When One Child Leaves, Everything Shifts
What I think we don’t talk about enough is this:
When a child leaves home, it’s not just life-changing for them.
It’s life-changing for all of us.
The family dynamic shifts.
The routines change.
The energy in the home feels different.
And while there’s grief in that, there’s also growth.
Room for new traditions.
New rhythms.
New ways of connecting as a family.
Holding It All Together
So here I am - again - standing in that familiar space:
Proud.
Grateful.
A little emotional.
And deeply aware of how meaningful this season is.
Letting go… while still holding on in the ways that matter most.
Because that’s what this season asks of us.
Not to cling.
Not to rush.
But to trust.
Trust the years we’ve poured in.
Trust the people they’ve become.
Trust that even as everything changes… the connection remains.
And maybe that’s the most comforting part of all:
They may leave the house…
but they never leave your heart.
And somehow, that makes even the hardest goodbyes feel a little softer.
Tuesday, May 19
6-8pm
Join us for real community and real conversation…before we break for the summer!