Last week you decided to attend the University of Nevada, rent an apartment with a few friends and start the process of next step of your life. This is the one where you will be making decisions without me and creating a life for yourself that won’t require my parenting, but rather my guidance. You seem ready to go now with only seven weeks left of high school and I have never experienced both my heart breaking and my complete pride in you at the same time (except when I watched what I knew was going to be your last at bat in your baseball career and you drove in the winning runs).

You were born in 1996. The world seemed easier to me back then. There wasn’t incredible pressure to breastfeed a newborn and nobody thought twice about circumcision or even vaccines. We followed the advice of our highly trained and educated doctors and things worked out just fine. I nursed you as long as I felt comfortable and then you were fed formula. I look at you now so healthy and strong and have no concerns about my decisions back then. Of course, we fed you lots of fruits and vegetables but some McDonalds might have slipped in there a few times, too and you still seem to be thriving.

I loved the freedom I had as a mother because it allowed me to concentrate on what I knew would matter to me the most – your soul. I didn’t worry about mercury or foreskins like new moms do today (even though maybe I should have) and I’m really glad I didn’t have to do that. Those issues seem so minor to me when I look at you now and realize that you are full of honor, respect, loyalty and a love for family that will guide you well into your adulthood. I disciplined you not with spanking or hitting you but with firm and clear rules and boundaries that I knew you would need to get through life. That discipline started from the moment you were born and continues to this day. When you were young, they started handing out trophies to everyone, but I loved that you never wanted those trophies. In fact, the only ones you have ever kept were the ones you earned because you knew that just merely showing up in life wasn’t good enough. They have taken to calling those trophies for everyone “finisher’s metals” as if merely completing the season is worthy of any recognition.

I made a vow to you when you were born and I still have that paper right here on my desk. That vow reads like this – Drew, I promise to do my best to guide and support you and to respect you enough to allow you to see the world through your own eyes. I promise to be your strength and emotional support until that times come that I have to let you fly.
Well my beautiful son, that time is fast approaching. The graduation announcements are being mailed, plans are in place for your 18th birthday, and your senior pictures are already taken. I have made plenty of mistakes the last 18 years and have held myself accountable to every single one of them, and the amazing thing is you have owned your part too. We have loved, we have fought, we have grown, we have supported one another, we have laughed and we have cried. A few years ago you even walked me down the aisle and although I know it was hard for you to accept another man into your home, you knew it was time to let go of the past and embrace a new future (something you will have to do many times in your life).

I’m so glad that I raised you to open doors for women, to respect people of all ages, to accept everyone and let them be the people they choose to be. I’m relieved that I always had the strength to discipline you and not get caught up in the latest crazes of parenting advice that were based only on self-esteem. You sat through plenty of time-outs and reflected on how you could be a better man. You have been grounded and had things taken away from you and learned that there are certain expectations that you have to meet. You have survived me raising my voice which will help you conquer an unfair world that won’t coddle you for any reason, Son. You have participated in household chores so that you will always know that in the end, there is just you and you have to take care of your business. You slept in your own bed your entire life and even cried it out a time or two as a baby, but you are an amazing sleeper and full of confidence in your emotional decisions. You lived through plenty of disappointments because I didn’t always say yes and never felt that I had to provide a long explanation as to why I said no.

Cheers to your future. I will always be here but you also know that it’s time to put on your big boy pants and start carving out your own life. That means you have to support yourself, make wise choices, and become a financially responsible adult. I know it’s in you. I look forward to watching you put your skills to work. I miss you already and you aren’t even gone.

Love,
Mom