In ten days, we will move our daughter into her dorm room for her first year of college. A week later, our son will return to his apartment for his third. I’m a little bit numb. Time is passing both slowly and quickly as we approach these goodbyes. Mostly I go through my days not thinking about it. Then the reality of it rushes in and the next thing I know, my chest feels crushed, my heart aches, I’m proud and sad and scared all at once, and all of my emotions leak out through my eyes.
Our kids can’t wait. I’m not worried about them. I will miss them, but they will be happy as clams. It’s my husband and me I’m worried about. Will we be lonely? Will we be bored? Will we suddenly become old without our kids here to keep us young?
My husband and I will be alone again for the first time in 21 years. In our younger years, we daydreamed about the day when the kids moved out and we’d be free to do whatever we want. In recent years, we realized, hang on, these are cool people and I want them in my life. They’re independent now and don’t need me so much; I do have freedom. They don’t need to leave.
But leave they will. And, with their dishes all over the kitchen counter in the mornings, crumbs and crumpled napkins all over the table, and piles of laundry in the laundry room, we’re coming back around to what it will be like when they’re gone.
We’ll eat what we want, when we want, without worrying about whether everyone likes the meal we’re making. Maybe we won’t even make meals! Maybe I’ll eat a bagel with peanut butter and honey for dinner! We’ll travel. We’ll take weekend trips without worrying about leaving the kids behind. We’ll ride our bikes together. We’ll visit the kids at college and take them out to eat. We’ll send them pictures of the cats being cute.
I’ll do things I love so that I can fill the space of them being gone. I’ll write. I’ll read on the couch. I’ll sit on the back deck to watch my garden and listen to birds. I’ll plant mums in the fall, when leaves are changing colors and the air is crisp and the kids are going to college football games on the weekends. I’ll drink coffee and do my Wordle and Connections, buy new journals, relax in the evenings with nobody depending on me for anything.
We’ll spruce up the house to make it feel fresh and not just like the same place but emptier. Maybe paint some walls, buy some art, rearrange some furniture. We’ll cook when we want to, rather than because we have to. We’ll listen to music. Maybe I’ll bake. I’ll text with the kids to see how they’re doing. I’ll tell my my daughter when I get boba and am thinking of her, and I’ll tell my son when the blackberries are good at Kroger. We’ll ask what they’re listening to these days. How their classes are. Who they’re hanging out with, what kind of stuff they do when they’re not in class or studying – volleyball? Swimming? Live music? What’s their favorite place to eat? Is their place the hangout, or do they go somewhere else?
We’ll miss them. We’ll be thrilled for them.
Butterfly Mind 