You are the peninsula stretching out into island and I can feel you quake. The ground beneath your feet is already shifting, the tectonic plates of independence they just won’t stand still. I can feel you moving away and I, mother, I will build that bridge.

On these days when even I would prefer to set you adrift, I will reach across the greatest divide and draw you in. Draw you close. We’ve given this advice. Parents of teenagers, they say “What do we do? They push us so hard?!” and we say, keep building bridges, chances are good they don’t like themselves much, at this moment either. So love them anyways. Teach them what grace means. Show them what love is. PUSH BACK. Build that bridge.
And so tonight I am thankful I am home….though there are other places I could/should be. Tonight we do extra story time and wrestles and bike riding. Tonight we figure out how to build our very first bridge.
And Boy? Just so you know… I will keep building no matter how many times you throw those grenades. This mamma love has no gaps for you to find.