Life in the Bottle is nostalgic.

In just a few days number four son, Jordan, will go out into the world to seek his fortune. This has been a very busy Spring of changes: my cancer diagnosis and surgery, David's job loss, Jonathan's marriage, etc. One more item to add to that growing list: Jordan is grown up and leaving home for the Navy. He will leave on Monday, and as with the three that preceded him, a part of my heart will not be the same again.
I would not want to change the fact that he will begin his adult adventure away from us. That is the way of life; however, I also know that nothing will ever be the same as before, when he was still a child at home. I treasure the memories of him a few minutes old- the peace and contentment that I felt just holding him after the 3 lost babies in the years before he was born and the difficult months carrying him. The time spent most mornings rocking in the rocker/recliner when he was a toddler. The pride I felt as he progressed through the different belts in Karate to become a junior black belt. The surprise I felt to enjoy so thoroughly his swim meets and water polo matches, being that I have such a love for football. The joy I felt as I watched him graduate with honors in May last year. He has been the quiet achiever. He greatly admires his older brothers, and has tried to follow in their footsteps. However, he is most accomplished when he makes his own path. He has been accepted by the Navy for Nuclear School upon completion of Basic Training in Illinois. I wish the very best for him, but I woke last night thinking of him, not as the grown-up he sees himself as, but the adorable red-headed little boy that needed me to watch over him.
This Mother's Day will be a little bit sad.
Life in the bottle is nostalgic.