I literally almost died giving birth to my first daughter but even in my withered state, I remember so clearly thinking, “She wasn’t here and now she is.” That was 24 years ago. She went off to college and graduate school, but always came back. But in the past year, because of complications of the pandemic, she’s been home snuggled up in the same bedroom she went from crib to toddler bed, lunch boxes to braces, crushes to adulthood.

Recently, there has been a decision and a new address. It all whipped up and I was engrossed in a flurry of details until the other night when she casually said, “You know you can just make my bedroom into a guest room.” I almost choked on my chicken and rice casserole. This time, she’s not coming back. It’s permanent. I thought, “She is here and soon she won’t be.”

So what do I do with this information? I’m not making her room into a guest room I can tell you that! Not yet anyway. First of all, it will probably be really tough to scrape off that whiteboard paint with the cat stencils underneath. And who knows, maybe she’ll want to spend the night here and there? The truth is, I’m just not ready. I need a little time to see what this new phase, this new transition, will look like. There’s nothing like children to teach you that life is constantly changing.

I’m trying to understand how I feel about this, to convey that to her, to see how she feels and to try not to be too overbearing! Big goal. This is the natural order of things. Of course, she would leave home one day. I knew this all along. Doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept. On the other hand, I'm happy for her. I’m proud of her and I'm reminding myself  that home isn’t really a place anyway. It’s that collection of memories and feelings and love that course through us when we are with someone we love. She can take that with her and I’ll leave it right there in her bedroom-not guest room yet!

As the saying goes, “the only constant in life is change.” Although we all know that change is inevitable, research shows that we tend to think that things will remain relatively the same. In a study conducted several years ago, people were asked to predict how much their lives would change over the next ten years, and the majority of participants stated that they believed their lives would remain relatively similar to the way they were at that time. However, when asked to look back ten years and note how much their lives have changed, they could see that their prediction of future change would likely be inaccurate.

When I applied this scenario to my own life, I was astonished to see how much has changed for me over the last ten years, and to be honest, I'm a bit fearful of the fact that my life will change equally as much if not more over the next ten years.

Big changes are on the horizon for me. My oldest daughter is heading off to college in just a few short weeks. Although I’m extremely excited for her, I’m a bit devastated that she will no longer be physically present in my everyday life. I remember dropping her off at pre-school and thinking “how will I survive not knowing what she’s doing at every single second of the day?” Of course she was happy as a clam making new friends and learning all kinds of wonderful new things. I knew then that I needed to summon the courage to let her fly. And I’m reminding myself to summon that same courage now, and to recognize that this is all part of the natural flow of change in life.

When talking about change, I love the analogy used by author Jack Kornfield. He says change is like a river flowing downstream, following the law of gravity, and when we resist it, it feels like we are trying to row upstream during a flood. However, when we accept change and embrace it, it’s like we are floating easily downstream. He says we may still need to row to avoid ramming into a rock or a bridge abutment, but it won’t feel like we are fighting the current of life! It's important for us to always remember that life is meant to flow, and when we give up the resistance to change, the ride will be much more enjoyable!

So if you see me anytime after August 18th (when my daughter moves into her college dorm) and I look like I'm in need of encouragement, remind me to put my oar away and let the river carry me downstream!