In exactly 21 days, my youngest child will leave my nest. At the ripe old age of 51, I will no longer be raising my children on a daily basis and know I’m now supposed to let them fly. I wonder what will become of me.
I’m more confident that my grown sons will thrive than I am that I’ll emotionally survive their exodus. I am filled with a sense of panic while wondering if I’ve taught them everything they need to know and said all I have to say. In this picture, my 3 beautiful sons are walking into El Morro in Puerto Rico; a sacred place where their ancestors have walked before.
I have shown them their past. I have tried my best to live in the present while raising them; enjoying every exquisite moment I’ve spent with them. I pray they’ll spend their future days never forgetting how much I love them and always believing I did my best as their Momma. NEWYORICANGIRL
