by Karin Fisher-Golton

This morning my nine-year-old son left on a class trip, his first trip without family. Last year at this time I remember watching the third graders preparing to board their bus with a tight stomach. I couldn’t imagine my son doing such a thing.

One year later, this morning, we said our goodbyes. We were both fine. We’d prepared, we’d talked, but mostly what had happened was that a year passed–he was older, and he was ready.

This reminded me of an earlier time, at his preschool end-of-year camp out. He was standing by the fire, watching it with a friend, and I was sitting with adult friends several yards away. I realized that even six months before I’d have been right next to him by the fire, probably holding on tight–I wouldn’t have trusted he’d stay safe. But at that camp out, I was confident he wouldn’t stick a hand in the fire.

We grow, we get ready. Sometimes through our efforts and sometimes just because of time. It can happen to adults, too. And I think it’s amazing.

Thank you, time. Thank you, we people with the ability to change.