This summer has been a whirlwind.

Ever since Mikey graduated, there have been parties, friends, the girlfriend, football, getting ready for college and just… life. So much life happening around this house.

And then I turned around and somehow we were here.

The day he had to leave for college.

Tonight I’m sitting in an empty house. Jacob is out with friends, Miguel is at work, and I’m home with my little girls my two dogs and the house just feels different.

Quiet.

Empty.

And it got me thinking about something kind of strange.

Years ago when I quit smoking, one of the hardest things wasn’t actually giving up the cigarette. It was giving up the routine that went with it.

I would sit down to watch a movie with my coffee and have a cigarette. I would get in the car, roll down the windows, take a long drive and smoke.

It was familiar. It was comfortable. It was part of the rhythm of my life.

And motherhood has a rhythm too.

For years, I knew what my days looked like.

The boys would come home from school. They’d go to football practice. Eventually everyone would make their way home and we’d sit down for dinner.

Tomorrow that routine is going to look a little different.

Someone is missing from the table.

And please don’t misunderstand me I am not sad about where Mikey is going.

I am SO excited for him.

I can’t wait to watch his world open up. I want him to meet new people, make new friends, experience college and see what he can do on that football field.

Both of my boys make me incredibly proud.

They have worked hard for what they have, especially when it comes to sports. That kind of commitment doesn’t just happen. It takes discipline. Dedication. Determination.

So today I asked Jacob something.

I said, “Where did you guys get that from? Because it definitely wasn’t from my athletic ability.” 😂

I’m disabled. Sports were never something I could do.

And without even really thinking about it, Jacob said:

“Mom, it’s probably your determination and resilience.”

That stopped me.

Because I thought… did I teach them that?

Maybe I never sat them down and explained resilience.

Maybe I didn’t have to.

Maybe they just watched.

Maybe they watched me get up when things were difficult.

Maybe they watched me figure out another way when my body couldn’t do something the way everyone else’s could.

Maybe they watched me go through surgeries, illness, setbacks and all the things life has thrown at us and keep going.

And maybe somewhere along the way, without Miguel or me even realizing it, they learned something from that.

Miguel and I basically raised these boys on our own. We didn’t have a big family support system around us. My parents were in Brooklyn and helped when the boys were younger, but here on Long Island, most of the day-to-day was us.

And when I think about everything we’ve been through my disability, raising a family, running a business, losing people we loved, all the normal chaos of life I can finally say something that I don’t think we say to ourselves enough:

We did a pretty damn good job.

Not a perfect job.

A good one.

And tonight, sitting in this strangely quiet house, I’m realizing that maybe one of the greatest things we teach our children isn’t something we ever actually say to them.

It’s what they watch us do.

So if you’re questioning yourself today as a parent, a spouse, a business owner, or simply as a person trying to figure out life give yourself a little credit.

You might be teaching someone something without even realizing they’re watching.

I know I was.

And tonight?

I’m pretty damn proud of that.

Between the flares

Debbie

Xoxo 😘