I cut AJ’s hair today. But not Asher’s. My firstborn has moved and married and hopefully found a new barber. Grief decided to make an appearance as I adjust to having only one customer.

Why does this decrease in my responsibilities hurt? Cutting Asher’s hair was a chore, and I was always nervous I would ruin his hair. Especially the last time right before the wedding. He always found it humorous that I was so insecure in my abilities. So why isn’t this a happy day when I no longer am the one holding the shears to his head? Why the tears? Why the need to find a place to escape and process privately?

That routine moment my son and I would share monthly or so, though at times inconvenient and stressful, was always a time to connect. For years. And now in place of connection only memory and tears. And gratitude. Gratitude that I was entrusted with shaping this young man for two decades. I had no idea how hard it would be to let go. To release. To step back and let him be fully independent.

But he FaceTimed last night with his bride by his side. New memories in the making. Next chapter. I like this chapter too. I’m still his mom. I will always be his mom. No one else will ever be able to hold this spot, even if someone else now holds the shears.