Just got home from a three-day road trip to take Seth to college for his freshman year. Theo, Gus and I all went out to take him. My mom stayed home with the three littles.
These are my thoughts about the experience of sending my very first child out into the world for the very first time.
I kept having this almost deja vu kind of feeling. Haven't I sorta done this before? Isn't this familiar, vaguely? Finally realized what I was reliving: childbirth.
Childbirth happens after nine month. Kids move into their dorms several months after making their commitment to the school. There's a long, long time to build up excitement about the big event.
Even though you've been preparing, you don't really know what to expect. This is such a novel experience! What will it really be like?!? How will I feel? How will I react?
Everyone around you is excited and happy and you feel obligated to match that. The college staff are decked out in their gear and bling and have super-duper-thrilled-to-meet-you smiles plastered on. They want moving day to feel like a party. A child's day of birth is super exciting for the extended family. They have huge smiles and excitement in their voices.
Problem is, in the back of your head you keep picturing your child dying. Every shocking tragedy you've ever heard about childbirth, or college students, is playing out like a silent film in one corner of your brain even while you're smiling at strangers and exclaiming: this is so damn fun!
There's alternative worries instead of death, if you prefer. Will my baby fail to thrive? Will he be the awkward, weird kid who can't get a date? Will my baby have colic and cry all the time? Will my freshman get depressed and suicidal? Will the babysitter drop the baby? Will the frat boys drink my son into a coma? Will the creepy neighbor molest my child? Will my son get raped in the shower?
All across campus I kept encountering mothers with the same look that was on my face, I'm sure. Eyes fixed a bit too wide, smile a bit too forcefully plastered. We were at the party in body. We were saying all the super-exciting-I'm-so-proud words....but behind our eyes every fear we've ever had was playing out.
And maybe a bit of exhaustion, too. I mean, we've been playing out these fears for 18 years now, can't we just set them aside for once? We got the kid HERE! We crossed the finish line and have launched into the big reward! Shouldn't we be HAPPY, dammit?? But, nope, same old fears are back with the new added twist of a college setting.
All I can say after three intense days (driving 10 hrs-moving in and leaving my firstborn-then driving 10 more hours) is that I survived. And I think I covered my weird thoughts as well as I ever do. I folded his t-shirts and shorts and arranged his socks and underwear and face masks in his drawers. I hung up his polo shirts and suit. I loaded his shower cady with the shampoo and washcloth and his razor. I showed him where I stashed the bandaids. I arranged his books beside his bed in an attractive tower. And while I kept my hands busy doing that Theo and Seth unpacked his computer gear and attached chords and connected to the wireless internet and accessed accounts. Both Theo and I showed him where we'd stashed our good-bye notes to him that he could read that night.
Everyone stayed busy and upbeat and cheerful and kind and helpful. (I turned away to hide the sudden tears when Theo gave Seth and lesson in how to tie his tie.)
We said good-bye outside at the V in the sidewalk. He gave us each really good hugs. Nobody rushed that part. We each took our turn whispering our love for him in his ear and he nodded. No tears. Big smiles and then he strode off to meet the group waiting for him. His walk was happy; bouncy. He has his father's walk. I first saw that walk on the college campus where we met. Was Seth walking off to meet his future wife? I hope so. I hope that day was just the beginning of his own long and happy story.
And at some point that I will finally, finally, get to put all my fears to rest, completely unrealized.
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