Goodbye 10-year old Davin

Buddy,

I forgot to say goodbye to 10-year old Davin before you went to bed last night.

It’s always amazing how much you change in a year’s time. I will never see 4-year old or 6-year old or 9-year old Davin again. But I said goodbye to them. There have been many days and time periods when I have not understood the things you do, but I know who you are and who you have the ability to become.

As your mom, this is kind of a heart-wrenching time for me because I feel like I’m on the last leg of having you all here and together. J turns 16 in just a few weeks, El will be 14 in six months and you are no longer a little guy. As long as you were younger than 10, I felt like we had forever together. But now I know that you’ll soon be in junior high, then high school and in 8 very short years, our lives will look very different.

And that’s how life should be. There are times for dirty diapers and temper tantrums and snuggles and traveling for games, and there are times for learning how to drive, having more and more homework or long talks in the afternoon.

The only thing I know to be absolutely true about this world is that there is a season for everything. Everything always changes. Part of me tries to stop it, and another part of me pushes the change forward. But at the end of the day, I just have to accept everything the way it is because if I don’t, I will miss something wonderful.

There are so many things I want for you in your 11th year. When you were 10, I so enjoyed listening to you ask questions about other people’s days. I loved how you would snuggle up next to me like you did when you were a toddler. My heart glows when your teachers tell me how you’re an excellent classmate: one who pays attention, works hard and willingly helps others. I appreciated how you helped me find directions on our trip together to the Outer Banks. And I will always cherish the conversations we’ve had about places and people and big ideas.

I know that you still have hidden talents just waiting to be discovered by you. Most people discover their hidden talents before they discover their innate goodness. So we share our talents until we discover our goodness.

I think the biggest struggle for me, being your parent, is always the question of, “How do I create an environment where you get to be 100% you so that you will discover who you are before you are thrown into this world? How do I help you sift through you so you have that foundation you can carry with you always?”

Even 16 years into being a parent, the only answer I have is, “I don’t know.” Sometimes I feel like the world moves too quickly for me to really figure that one out. And sometimes I just rest on the fact that I know I am doing my best, even if it’s not always right.

I don’t know how to make sure that you know who you are in this world because the only thing I know for sure is that there is a season for everything, then everything changes.

You will be forever growing and forever changing. But having been with you from the very moment you were conceived, I know that you’ve shared pieces of who you have always been with the world in ways you have not while you were 10.

You don’t see it. Your sisters and friends don’t see it. Your teachers don’t see it. But I, your mom, am overwhelmed with sparkling love in the moments when you choose to share your innate goodness with the world. This is what life is supposed to be about.

Love, Mom