When your boy is a high school senior you find yourself thinking, "This will be the last time we attend a jazz ensemble concert." Or "Weird that we won't have early morning marching band ever again."
It is both gut-wrenching and terrific at the same time when new eras begin.
So I sit here a little choked up as I think about my boys becoming men. I get pre-nostalgia nostalgia. Followed by nostalgia.
Sappy, sappy me.