Over the last several years, as neighbors' cars were packed with their college kids' belongings getting reading for journeys to Boston or Virginia or Orono, I didn't give it much thought. My feeling was one of detached happiness -- how exciting for the kids, going off to the college of their choice, beginning the next phase of their lives. How exciting for the parents...beginning the next phase of their lives and having "arrived" at a bit of success for raising children to this point.
When our car was being packed last year to take Matt off to freshman year, I was still filled with happiness, albeit a more focused and anxious happiness. We were all four jumping into the abyss, the unknown, and I did so with nervous excitement.
This year, sophomore year for Matt, is different. It's different because of the knowing. It's no longer an unknown. This August, as his two neighborhood best friends packed up for their freshman years away, I noticed. I pondered it. I was no longer detached from the other neighborhood kids. This summer, some had told me outright they were nervous to go -- very bright kids with lots of friends and successes already in their young lives. They seemed more nervous than I would have expected and more than I remember being as I set off myself so many years ago.
Now, I knew what the parents were going through - the fear, nervousness and mixed emotions of missing them already and happiness at what lay ahead. It was no longer ethereal; now my view of the situation was based on my own reality. My nervousness, for Matt, has abated; he has led himself well. But in other ways, this year was tougher seeing others' departure through different eyes and no longer clinging to ignorant bliss.
I tear up when I hear the truth in Harry Chapin's Cat's in the Cradle - "Well, he came from college just the other day. So much like a man I just had to say, son I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while?"
When our car was being packed last year to take Matt off to freshman year, I was still filled with happiness, albeit a more focused and anxious happiness. We were all four jumping into the abyss, the unknown, and I did so with nervous excitement.
This year, sophomore year for Matt, is different. It's different because of the knowing. It's no longer an unknown. This August, as his two neighborhood best friends packed up for their freshman years away, I noticed. I pondered it. I was no longer detached from the other neighborhood kids. This summer, some had told me outright they were nervous to go -- very bright kids with lots of friends and successes already in their young lives. They seemed more nervous than I would have expected and more than I remember being as I set off myself so many years ago.
Now, I knew what the parents were going through - the fear, nervousness and mixed emotions of missing them already and happiness at what lay ahead. It was no longer ethereal; now my view of the situation was based on my own reality. My nervousness, for Matt, has abated; he has led himself well. But in other ways, this year was tougher seeing others' departure through different eyes and no longer clinging to ignorant bliss.
I tear up when I hear the truth in Harry Chapin's Cat's in the Cradle - "Well, he came from college just the other day. So much like a man I just had to say, son I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while?"
