When I first became a mom, I received lots of advice. Some of it I asked for, some of it was unsolicited. Sometimes it was a friend telling me about their favorite parenting book or the best place to buy diapers. Sometimes it was a stranger in the grocery store voicing their how-to solutions for anything from child safety to potty training to incorporating veggies into my toddler’s diet. Then there were those who insisted that I must follow “So and so’s method” or I’d never survive the 2’s and 3’s— and whatever that so-called life saving method was varied from person to person.
But there was one piece of advice I received that I’ve thought about every year since. What was the advice? A mentor casually said to me something I’m sure many parents hear: “Enjoy each moment for it passes all too quickly.” She had just entered the empty nest stage of life and I could see memories flash across her eyes as she looked at my son resting in my arms.
When she said those words, I remember thinking, “I only wish it went by fast!” and tossed it aside with the rest of the well-meaning advice I received. Those days, I was deep in the trenches of early motherhood where time seemed to stretch out like an afternoon shadow. And then the sun would rise on another morning and I’d be reminded that another night went by without any sleep.
But as time went by, and the fog of fatigue faded, I remembered the advice. And every year around this time I reflect on her words. That’s because my oldest turned 16 yesterday. 16! It seems like just last week I was reading him a bedtime story while he lay snug in his blue racecar bed and then asked me to read five more. It feels like yesterday that I sat watching him cover every inch of the great room floor with an elaborate train track and a few hours later asked me to video every. single. cannon ball jump into the backyard pool. Long gone are the days of playing Battleship and building Legos and answering impossible “Why?” questions. Instead, these days are filled with instructions on safe driving and how to use a calendar to organize school work and reminders to study for the SAT. And asking the one question no parent will ever receive the answer to: “Why do you leave empty boxes in the pantry?”
When I consider how fast time has gone by and that I only have two years before he likely leaves home for college, I start to panic. Have we taught him everything he needs to know? What have we missed? Then part of me wants to treat these last two years like a study cram session. I want to make flash cards and quiz him on all the life lessons we’ve taught, the theology we’ve imparted, and all those important instructions that are guaranteed to save him from near death if only he follows them exactly as instructed.
But I know that the age of 18 isn’t some kind of expiration date, as though everything a person needs to know must be imparted by that time or they’re out of luck. I also know that most of the lesson’s he’ll learn in life will happen in adulthood, in those years when he stretches his wings and explores both his gifts and this great big world God has made. I know too, from experience, that he’ll have to fall to learn the most important lessons of all.
And so, while I will continue to teach my son what needs to be taught and gently lead and guide as needed, I also want to do what my friend told me all those years ago, “Enjoy each moment for it passes all too quickly.”
