Winning at Coping

I have been dreading this month, this summer, for years.

Next week my oldest will be graduating from high school and in the fall I'll be making the long trip across the country to bring her to school.

I wrote about this months ago. I sat at my computer in tears, wondering how in the world I was going to get through it. Yes, I have two more children at home, but this marks the beginning of a new chapter for our family and the start of all my little chickadees leaving the nest.

I'll be honest - there have been moments when I don't mind the thought of it so much. When the trash can is overflowing because no one but me takes it out or when it's so noisy I can't concentrate, I envision a future me in a quiet house working only with my own schedule instead of waking up in the morning wondering how it's all going to get done.

Months ago I was sitting in a therapy session, crying about what was coming up and my therapist said something very helpful. "I once had a client who cried for two years before her daughter graduated and then when it happened she came in and she'd never been happier."

I was hopeful when she said that because that's typically what happens to me. I'll cry for the two weeks leading up to my deceased husband's birthday and then on the actual day, I'm completely fine. Sure enough, at my daughter's senior field hockey banquet, an event I'd been dreading since she was a freshman, I sat there with dry eyes. (It helped that most of the girls were fighting by then, so we were pretty happy to let it go.)

In the last few weeks I've attended senior awards ceremonies, her last choir concert, and other events that have had me crying for three years, anticipating the LAST ONE. And at each of the events, I might have had a short teary moment, but for the most part. I've felt okay. I'd even say I was happy.

"What's changed?" my therapist asked.

My secret

Living in the present is not so much as secret as it is an impossible goal - or at least I've always thought of it that way. I'm a worrier and a regretter. I've battled anxiety and depression. And all of those things mean that I've either been living in the past or worried about the future.

But again, to actually think about the present was something I have never been capable of doing - until I had an epiphany.

I was sitting in bed one night, crying over what was to come, when I realized that I was wasting valuable time. Instead of enjoying the time I have with my daughter, I was dreading the future that was months away. I was missing out.

I had FOMO.

If I sat and cried through that choir concert, that would mean I was thinking about either the baby she was or the fact that she's leaving. I wasn't in the moment, soaking it in, remembering every detail as much as possible, enjoying that time and being happy for her. I was ruining the time I had left with her.

And that scared me more than her leaving.

I've started a little exercise that's helped me greatly when it comes to her leaving and calming down my anxiety in general. When I start feeling those tears or start worrying about something that likely won't happen I ask myself this question:

Are you okay right now?

I mean that in a very literal sense. Are you breathing? Is it a beautiful day outside? Are you sitting in a home that you're grateful for? Are you spending time with family you love? Can you feel the chair underneath you? What are the words the choir is singing? What is happening right now in this moment?

Notice I'm not asking if my credit cards are paid off or if everything on my work to-do list is done. I mean very literally WHAT IS HAPPENING?

I'm not saying that there won't be any tears leading up to the fall or sadness when she goes, but I know I'm doing my very best to soak up each moment as it comes right now. I don't want to think back on these milestones and realized that I missed a moment with her, thinking about what she needs to pack in two months or the moment we will finally say goodbye.

I know I can choose to worry and dread or I can choose her.