Last week, I’d written an entirely different blog for this week. It was about the angst I was feeling as a Mom about whether or not I’d prepared my son enough for Life On His Own at college. I was certain those feelings would follow me into this next chapter.
But after having dropped him off, I don’t feel that angst anymore. I am angst-less.
How did that happen?
Well, Z did go off to three weeks of summer camp every year for 7 years — and they weren’t allowed to bring electronic devices, so the only way to keep in touch was by old-fashioned letter writing. Maybe my brain just thinks we’ve dropped him off at camp…
Perhaps writing about the conflicting emotions here on the blog over the summer was a kind of journal-therapy…
Or maybe laying out what I was feeling and unflinchingly looking at the pesky tear-jerking thoughts helped me work through them by the time it came to say “good-bye”… Not to say there weren’t tears and lots of hugs and “I’ll miss yous,” there were, but not long and protracted. Although part of that may have been due to pure exhaustion…
(I’m pretty sure I’m not a cold-hearted monster who is incapable of feeling, so we’re just tossing that idea out right now.)
Whatever the reason, I’m ok. Ask me again next week and that answer may have changed, but for now, I’m good!
My kid was one of the first of my friends’ kids to head off to college this month. And now those friends and friends of older kids keep asking how I’m doing. Messages on Facebook encourage me to “hang in there,” texts reassure me “it gets better,” emails remind me to “keep breathing”… Normally, I’d be so grateful for commiseration and encouraging words, but I’m rather confused this time, because I don’t need them right now…
I know most all of us get excited for our kids’ new adventures. Maybe the excitement I feel for Z starting this new chapter has overwritten the sad “empty nest” feelings for me. Do I miss him? Of course. Is it disorienting not being a part of his everyday life? You bet. Do I wistfully walk by his bedroom on the way to my office? Sure, sometimes (but it is all neat and tidy now with the bed actually made, and I do like that part).
Do I expect that feelings of missing him will ambush me in the coming weeks? Probably. I’m prepared with tissues at all times, just in case.
What I do know for sure is that I spent the last 18 years raising a kind, funny, smart, curious person. He sprouted wings and wanted to use them sooner than a lot of his playmates, and I could either accept this as part of the person I was raising, or squelch the fire that fueled his curiosity. Frankly, having been squelched a lot myself, I had no desire whatsoever to try and change the course of my son’s trajectory. So maybe I’ve been preparing myself all along for this giant leap.
That little person turned out to be a pretty terrific young man. Far from perfect, but pretty amazing all the same. I trust in that. I also know without a doubt that he will sometimes fall; he will at some point(s) fail; there is turbulence ahead, and he will need to learn to navigate all of that and more. I trust I was able to teach him to find, and use, the tools he needs; but above all, I hope he learned to trust in himself, in his absolute capability to deal with what Life brings. He is resilient, and now he needs to believe in that resiliency.
And here I am, cheering from the sidelines now. Always. Some days I feel like I’m flying blind — we’re in uncharted territory: Life After Kid. I’m not abdicating as his Mom, but he is sovereign now.