When we began homeschooling in 1999 I didn’t start with the end in mind. I couldn’t see past the cluttered dining room table, the quest for curriculum, and the days that lasted forever despite the years passing swiftly.
When they were young, growing, and changing, I couldn’t picture what it would be like when my boys graduated.
What would they look like? How tall would they be? Who would they be?
I thought Garrison would rise the ranks in the business world. He had a gift for leadership and problem solving.
Benny might be a writer. He had penned dozens of stories through the years, and a novella.
My youngest Will is still changing and growing. He starts high school next year and maybe then I might have a better idea. Maybe he’ll start a hipster coffee shop and sell his art.
I have to keep this post short or I risk a flood of emotions and the reverberating pain that closing a life door can bring.
I miss my little boys. Homeschooling them was a a crazy awesome, no regret adventure. I love my big guys. When the little boys I snuggled, tickled, nursed, raised, and learned alongside surface from time to time like the breach of a humpback whale, I feel peaceful. I love those moments.
Is this homeschool journey of ours is truly ever over? Our boys are beginning their own life travels, and we are still companions. No, it is definitely not over. It’s just different. And it’s all good.