Dearest child of mine,
You are about to embark on a four-year, undergraduate journey that will change you forever. I have had the immense privilege of watching you grow, make a few endearing mistakes, make a few stupid mistakes, learn, sometimes not learn, and develop. But now that you are leaving my nest that I have fortified for you with my love and dedication, I won't be there to watch you grow, make various mistakes, learn, not learn, and develop. I have to step back, turn around, and walk away, and that is so insanely difficult for a loving mother to do to her child/young adult, so please let me have that one hug good-bye in front of your new roommate despite how "cool" you would portray yourself to be. Please let me have that moment because my heart needs it.
Precious, destined-for-greatness child of mine,
I do not care what you study for the next four years. Despite my endless nagging, I really do not care. I only care that you don't morph into an asshole when I'm gone. I trust you to remain solid in your beliefs and values. However, I know how tempting excessive binge-drinking and the notorious "bad boys" and "bad girls" are. I was a college freshman once too. Do not give up yourself for anything or anyone who can hurt you. I know that you will need to learn of the world's horrors all on your own, but now is not the time. Let's wait a year or two or five for that existential moment when you find yourself half-naked in a dumpster not able to recollect how you got there so that you can realize the shiny bullshit that is adulthood.
Cherished child of mine,
You are the reason I worry and stress. However - and more importantly - you are the thing I fight for. So when you call me telling me of an unfair, unruly professor who had the nerve to fail you, I will be very tempted to come to yourself campus, find that professor, and beat them up. I will never second-guess putting someone in their place for you. However, I can't do that anymore. You have to. This is your semi-adult life now. It's your time to organize your people. Who will you put on the highest shelf? The lowest shelf? The garbage?
Developing child of mine,
I bid you a fine, temporary farewell. As I leave you to your new friends who you probably will grow to not like in three weeks in a new place that you also will grow to not like in three weeks, I wish you the best of luck. I believe in you, kid. Now, don't you dare forget me.
Always,
Your odd yet endearing mother
