It’s been said that God gives her toughest battles to her strongest soldiers. Parents sending their kids off to college are training in boot camp, prepping to march on the front lines of an emotional combat zone. We need the strength of a full platoon to be able to emerge victorious from this internal war of emotions.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
My older son Davis, the boy who made me a mom, is leaving for college.
I will miss seeing him every day, laughing at his hilarious stories at the dinner table, watching him taunt Leo as only an older brother can. Will Davis miss the assigned chores, asking for permission to go out and my constant food pushing? Probably not. Will I miss the mountains of dirty sports laundry, wet towels on the floor and half eaten foods left on the kitchen counter? Probably.
I am very much looking forward to Davis having the independence he so badly craves. This stage of life for both parents and children seems to indicate that our relationship will strengthen and grow when we don’t live under the same roof for a while. Absence will make the heart grow fonder.
Flash back to 1988 when I left for college. Man, was I ready to go. I was so excited to live with my lifelong best friend, Nancy, my best friend to this day. Freshman year in the dorm was so f*&%#@g fun!
Leaving home at 18 for college and adventure was all I wanted. It didn’t mean I loved my parents any less, in fact I appreciated them more once navigating on my own. Being in charge of my own schedule and tasks, not needing permission to do anything and living without guardians was developmentally appropriate and eye opening. What a thrilling ride it was, and sometimes still is, figuring out and messing up and figuring out how to fix the mess.
Davis will experience all that and hopefully more. If I could write him a book of advice, I would title it “Quantity Over Quality – The College Years.” It would be followed by the less fun sequel “Don’t Let the Distractions Distract You.”
Of course, we know he wants to make us proud. He’s done an amazing job of that so far, even with a few head shakingly bad choices thrown in. The kid knows how to mix it up. We all want our parents to be proud of us, no matter how old we are. We still want to see our artwork on the fridge.
As Davis chooses his own destiny and the path that will take him there, he will face forks in the road, incorrect routes and dead ends. It will balance out with incredible journeys, clear directions and pots of gold at the end of the rainbows. I’m truly excited for the Yellow Brick Road he is about to explore.
But what if I forgot to teach him some navigational tricks? Did I teach him everything I need to teach him about life before he ventures out into the world as a young adult? Should I have made a list when he was born, added to it as time went on and then checked off each item as it was taught? Be a good person? Check. Work hard and have fun? Check. Call your grandparents to say hi? Check.
My husband, Jeff, and I have planted seeds we now get to watch grow as Davis becomes the adult he is meant to be. This will include struggles and success, love and heartbreak, confidence and questioning. At Davis’ high school graduation, the senior class principal gave a moving speech in which he said, “I don’t want you to leave, but you have to leave. And you are so ready.”
The man was reading our minds.
Eighteen years, six months and 10 days into parenting, I’m still figuring it out. On Year 18, Month 6 and Day 11, the deal I signed on to as a parent, with my baby bird flying out of the nest, becomes reality. Rather than cry myself into dehydration, my hope is that watching him soar will remind me of a job well done by all of us. I’m excited for him. I’m excited for me. I’m excited for us.
The Browns will then embark on our next stage, with Leo starting his senior year of high school. That means in 365 days I will summon the strength of a military battalion when I have to do this all over again.
Should I label this feeling “sad happiness” or “happy sadness?”
Either way, I will loosen my grip on his hand but forever hold tight to his heart.
