18 years ago at this time I was
preparing a nursery, anxiously awaiting the arrival of our first
child. From crib to mobile, diapers to bibs, I shopped and shopped
and bought every necessity (and non-necessity) for our baby that
money could buy. Flash forward to present day and here I am, going on
shopping sprees again for this same child, except now we are
furnishing a dorm room. The irony is not lost on me.
Most mothers cannot wait for their
baby to be born, and to hold them in their arms. Instead I was
acutely aware that the act of giving birth was the first of many
separations I would face as a mother. For 9 months it had been just
the two of us, and the realization that now I would have to be polite
and share my baby with grandparents and friends made me sad. Like
most new moms I never wanted to put baby down, in awe of the love I
felt for him.
More separations were to come.
Dropping him off at preschool, or a play date, trusting someone to
care for your child just as well as yourself- it was a nervous thing.
Before long the first day of Kindergarten rolled along and it was a
rough day. Again I shopped. Special pencils and erasers, folders,
backpacks, and lunchboxes adorned with smiling dinosaurs and beloved
childhood characters were stockpiled on the dining room table. I sat
up with a Sharpie and carefully labeled every crayon and glue stick
with love, with hearts instead of dots over the letter “i”. The
night before the first day I lovingly packed that special dragon
lunchbox, filling it with my child's favorite foods, drawing a big
heart on the napkin with a love letter to make him smile, and I laid
out his new sneakers and favorite outfit. Watching that little
munchkin climb the steep steps of the school bus I thought my heart
was breaking in my chest. I smiled and waved and blew kisses, and as
soon as the bus drove away we hopped into the car and followed that
bus straight to the school to be there when he disembarked, and
walked him to his new classroom where we handed him over to a
stranger who promised to take good care of him. That was a hard day.
Every year after that we celebrated the last day of school, and I would cry on the first, missing my babies, wishing the house weren't so quiet while they were gone. But it wasn't so bad, because every afternoon that big yellow bus faithfully rolled up to the bus stop and there were my peanuts; smiling and waving, anxious to tell me all about their days and all was right with the world again. Before I knew it, more firsts came along. First sleepover, first sleep-away camp, even the ultimate freedom: driver's licenses. Each one was difficult in its own way, but at the end of the day they always returned and we would talk about their experiences, and I could still tuck them in at night.
Every year after that we celebrated the last day of school, and I would cry on the first, missing my babies, wishing the house weren't so quiet while they were gone. But it wasn't so bad, because every afternoon that big yellow bus faithfully rolled up to the bus stop and there were my peanuts; smiling and waving, anxious to tell me all about their days and all was right with the world again. Before I knew it, more firsts came along. First sleepover, first sleep-away camp, even the ultimate freedom: driver's licenses. Each one was difficult in its own way, but at the end of the day they always returned and we would talk about their experiences, and I could still tuck them in at night.
Until now. It's two nights before my
oldest moves into his dorm and begins his first year of college. This
time my entire dining room is stockpiled with everything a kid's dorm
room could need, and then some. Laundry is getting done like never
before, in part because every load is a practice lesson for the kid.
Every trip we take to shop I find myself sounding OLD, reminding him
of campus safety, the dangers of drugs, not missing classes... I'm
pretty sure he is tuning out but still I feel better if I say it out
loud. I realize now, in hindsight, Kindergarten was a walk in the
park compared to this. There's no bus that will deliver him home
everyday, and no more will he shout over his siblings to tell me
about his day, “It's MY turn to talk!” It's going to be pretty
quiet here, and I don't love this at all.
Despite how (clearly) difficult this
transition has been, I have also had some epiphanies as well.
Remembering this rite of passage in my own life I realize I wasn't
nervous or dreading the transition, instead I was excited and I
embraced it with fervor! I made some of my best friends in my
freshman dorm, and the new-found freedom I had was liberating. I grew
up. I learned I could do things on my own, and that I was self
sufficient. I survived an awful roommate, and through that experience
I learned how to deal with unpleasant people and situations,
something we all unfortunately have to do in life in jobs, living
situations, volunteering, and even in public. Looking back I now know
some of the biggest, most hard fought lessons I learned weren't in
the classroom, but instead were personal, life lessons.
I also remember college as one of the
most wonderful times of my life. I was young and carefree, my only
real responsibility to do well in my studies. I now have taken the
time to tell my son just how different and amazing learning can be
when you have chosen what you wish to learn. Never again should
school be boring, it should be exhilarating and challenging. It is
such a special experience, filled with learning and growing,
establishing relationships and friendships that last a lifetime. It
is a time to become a young adult, and I am looking forward to seeing
him grow through this process, and to see what he will eventually end
up doing in his life. These thoughts comfort me, because I realize
now there has not been one stage of parenthood I haven't loved. And
with that knowledge I realize that this stage will be no different;
while his geography will change, he will always be our son- that will
never change.
At the same time some parents are
preparing their children to go off in a different way; to serve in
the armed forces. While I have no personal experience with this, I
have friends who do. I can only imagine the pride they have watching
their children go off to serve our country, and just how much they
will miss them. Oftentimes the members of our armed forces are
stationed across country or even overseas, and deployments can
stretch for very long periods of time. If you know a parent who will
be saying their goodbyes to their children as they enter the US Navy,
US Air Force, the US Army, or the Marines, or, give them a hug and
thank them for their children's service as well as their sacrifice.
