During the time I was out dealing with planning the memorial service for Mr. Random's mom, I turned 39 years old. One year closer to the big 4-0.
I guess my feeling is encapsulated by the incident below . . .
After the memorial service was over, Mr. Random, his sister, his cousin and I were all cleaning up the hall and gathering everything together to go home. All of the guests had left at this point, and it was just the four of us - all around the same age: late 30's-early 40's. I looked around and thought to myself, "Aren't there any grown-ups around here to help?"
Then came the realization. Wow. We're the grown-ups now.
I guess this is one of the experiences that marks one's true entry into adulthood - when you look around and you find yourself having to be the one to answer the questions and do the hard work. No longer can you look up to "an adult" because . . . well . . . you're it.
It is very scary and very sad and very empowering at the same time. Mr. Random no longer has parents around to help him. And while my parents are still alive (and have been awesome at offering Mr. Random advice and support, and are truly taking him under their wing), they are getting older and one day I'm going to have to go through all of this wrenching, emotional turmoil again.
I am not looking forward to it at all. I hope the day is very far away. Mr. Random said that he is certain that his parents raised him to be prepared for this day - and I think that is what most parents want for their children. But this experience has taught me that my awesome parents have given me the tools to handle it too.
And I am very thankful for that.
