As I reached for the box of Frosted Mini-Wheats, a shake revealed an unfortunate truth. The box was nearly empty, save for a few stray morsels swirling in a pool of crumbs. Not one to waste food, I decided to pour the remnants into a bowl and finish them off.
Next up was the box of Honey Graham Oh’s. A shake confirmed my fears; it too was empty. Holding up the bag, I saw more than just a handful left, so I added those to my bowl and drenched them with milk. With each crunch, my gaze wandered to the box of Total Raisin Bran, now standing solitary and vulnerable. I didn’t need to shake it to know what awaited me inside.
Fifteen bran flakes and four raisins later, I was both full and a bit misty-eyed. My cereal escapade was a bittersweet reminder that these moments were fleeting. Just a year from now, the house will be quiet, and the cereal boxes will remain untouched. I might just have to switch to eggs.
This ritual of finishing what my kids start has been part of my life since they were tiny. It’s a mother’s duty, really. We nibble on the crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches, savor the last melting bite of ice cream, and tackle the leftover pieces of steak they’ve just learned to cut. We pick up the final toys before nap time, read those last few sentences of storybooks, and even complete the last math problems of homework to help them settle in for bed. And even as I encourage my son to handle his laundry before heading off to college, I still find myself pulling his clothes from the dryer to fold them, quietly finishing the task for him.
It’s a delicate dance—the child begins, the mother completes. The lines between their starts and my finishes have become so intertwined that I hardly notice them anymore. However, this particular transition is painfully evident. The chapter that began 18 years ago is drawing to a close. I still have some time, and I plan to savor this last year, relishing the laughter, sweetness, and crunch that has defined our days. The dance will change after this, and I am not quite ready to learn the new steps.
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Summary
The piece reflects on the bittersweet moments of motherhood, focusing on the ritual of completing what your children start. It highlights the tenderness of these experiences and the inevitable changes that come with time. As the author prepares for the transition of an empty nest, she cherishes the final moments of this chapter in her family’s life.
