The car is packed. She's picked out the perfect bedding. She's been texting her new roommates all week. But all you can think about is how she won't be with you for the car ride home.
For the first time, she won't wander into the kitchen asking what's for dinner every night. No more sitting on the couch talking about each other's day while watching a re-run of the "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." Fewer trips to the grocery store together and more mapping out when the next time you'll be together. This is a pivotal time in both of your lives.
This time of transitions will be difficult. Not any more difficult for one than the other.
It's early in the morning and you've been awake all night. Tossing and turning. Unable to get comfortable with the thought of her not being in her room just down the hall. The to-go cups of coffee are prepped and the house starts to wake up.
She comes into the kitchen, bubbly as ever with her university tee shirt on.
A sweet "Good morning Mom" comes from her mouth as she hurries to start packing the car with her dad. You know she doesn't mean to break your heart, but she's doing a great job anyways.
The car is filled and string cheeses and protein bars are passed out to those in attendance of this monumental day.
The traffic approaching the campus is torture, increasing your anxiety thinking that all of the terrible things that could go wrong, will. You start seeing traffic signs directing families to their child's destination for the years to come. You can't help but observe the mothers in cars around you. Are they having the same feelings? Is this their first child leaving home? Is this their last? How far are they from home?
You start seeing volunteers getting students excited. Yelling chants and welcoming their new classmates to campus. You actually start to get excited for her. You look back at her and she's wearing her ear to ear grin. You both know that this is where she is meant to be.
More students begin to appear and cheer her name. Her residence hall is in sight. Surrounded by "Welcome Week" volunteers, you feel overwhelmed and hope she doesn't feel the same way.
The car is stopped and students flood the car. Unloading every box, bag, and piece of furniture. An upperclassman explains that dad stays in the car to park but mom and daughter can get out to head up to check-in.
You swim through the masses of volunteer students carrying microwaves, refrigerators, and bedding. You climb the stairs to the fourth floor where you are meet by her two RAs (resident assistants). They greet her with big smiles and compliments of her shoes, they continue to give her information about her mailbox, her dorm key, and location of the student union and information about events going on the next few days.
You hang back watching your baby girl do her thing. She has prepared herself for the last months, you've tried preparing yourself for the last eighteen years. And now here you both are. Hours from saying "I love you's" and "see you later" avoiding the word "goodbye."
As one of the RAs leads her to the room, the other stops you and asks a simple question: "How is Mom doing?"
Here they come. The tears begin to roll. The sweet upperclassman grabs the prepared box of tissues and hands them to you, offering words of comfort and encouragement. She tells you how her own mother had the exact same reaction. There is no way of escaping this day. There is also no way of fully preparing yourself for leaving her.
You collect yourself and then, the sweet student, she offers you a big hug which is greatly appreciated.�
In the last eighteen years you raised a young woman that wanted to be a princess, veterinarian, and doctor but ultimately someone who wanted her parents to be proud of her. She is now at an institution where she will be taught life lessons that will equip her with tools for her future career and her life. You raised a strong, confident, smart young woman that is ready to start her life. She has had eighteen years of observing her mother being a strong, confident, smart woman.
It is scary leaving her in a place that she is not familiar with, let alone you are familiar with. However, this is life. She cannot be contained and be expected to become the person she was made to be without being allowed to explore this world. She will make some mistakes. She will learn what she is good at. She will know the people that understand her. She will miss you.
You may think that she is so excited to leave that there is no way she is going to miss you. You are wrong.
She will spend the same number of nights crying in the bathroom missing you. She will count down the days till you see each other again. She will regret not calling you every day. She will text you when she's excited, nervous, and missing home. She will miss you. A lot.
Know that you are not alone. Let her know that you miss despite how much she already knows. Cherish the time you have with her. Take as many selfies as you can together. Embarrass her. Be silly with her. Do things with her. Remember that she is so much like you and that means that she misses you just as much as you miss her.
You'll survive, mom. She'll survive. You both will make it.
Love,
A College Daughter Dropped Off Three Years Ago
