Very soon, my husband and I will be taking our first born child to college, and dropping her off to begin her freshman year.
We have attended orientation…completed necessary paperwork…packed a good portion of belongings already. My thinking is that if we’re prepared, perhaps I’ll also be adequately prepared emotionally for the experience. (Fat chance).
Over and over, I keep telling myself it is “time” for her to go. In truth, it is. She needs to spread her wings, grow as a human and learn more about life amid her peers.
We went shopping yesterday for a couple of specific items of clothing she wanted. The saleswoman asked her what size pants she wears. My daughter looked at me to supply an answer!
“You should know what size pants you wear!” I scolded. “You’re eighteen!”
Once she received her size, the saleswoman and I chatted. A song that my daughter liked came on over the sound system.
“She isn’t trying on the pants anymore,” I said to the woman, shaking my head. “She’s dancing in the dressing room.”
When she came out of the dressing room, the saleswoman asked her if she was dancing.
“If you’re going to play a jam like that,” my daughter said, “I can’t be held responsible.”
So grown and still so much a little kid. I hope she never loses her child-like spirit.
It won’t be long before we are pulling away from her college dorm, and I am crying like a baby. Most likely, it will start way sooner than that. And I have to seriously search my heart and wonder, why the tears if this is such a good thing?
And it dawns on me that the next time I see her, she’ll be a little different, because life experience involves and includes change.
That shouldn’t be cause for tears. I’ll have more of her to love.
Good luck my darling girl. Oh, how I’ll miss you. With all my heart, Mom.