On this morning two weeks ago at 9:15 AM, Brad and I set out on an eight mile run. It started out as it usually does with Brad and I running along and chatting about a myriad of different current topics.
The run progressed and with it we fell into our respective paces. He began pulling ahead steadily. As I watched, he initially held back on his pace to give me a fighting chance, but he still pulled far ahead. Once upon a time he would always stay within a certain distance of me, periodically looking back, making sure I was still there. Now he ran. I suddenly saw that the transition had somehow occurred along the way.
He is younger, stronger, faster, and more driven. He pulls ahead because he knows the path and feels the pull to complete the task. He no longer waits for direction. He moves out of sight. I no longer worry that he will get hurt because we taught him well. I have faith that he will be there when we are at the established meeting spot.
In two days we will drop him off at West Point. He will be pulled away and we will quickly lose sight of him. I have faith because we taught him well and he is a smart and focused man. My job, as Mom, is going through a transition into the next phase. I will be here to support and provide guidance, when needed, but I will not be his full time mom any longer because he is older, stronger, faster, and more driven. I am not sure if he will look back on R-Day and that is ok.
Run, Brad, run.