When you become a parent, you get all sorts of advice from well-wishers: sleep when the baby sleeps; ask for help; trust your instincts; the days are long, but the years are short.
Admittedly, I never bought into that last little gem. Every moment, especially in those first few years, felt long. There were many nights when my son was sick or fussy or “just not tired, Mommy!” Those difficult years seemed as if they would never end. There was certainly nothing short about them.
Motherhood taught me an enormous amount. I learned to be patient and a better listener, when to intervene, and when to let my child test the waters on his own. I also learned first-hand that time is a sneaky thief.
Fast forward, and here we are, 18 years gone with a finger snap. My only child is now an adult and about to finish his high school career. The peace and quiet I longed for on those long, sleepless, stressful nights I thought would never end? That’s right around the corner.
I’ll soon have an empty nest, with my bird nearly 2,000 miles away, and I’m already dreading it.
He decided to go to college far from home
His father and I are incredibly proud of him and know he’s ready for this next big step. He worked hard for his great grades, applied to more than a dozen top universities, and was rewarded with incredible choices during one of the most hellacious admissions cycles on record. We cheered as his acceptances rolled in from across the country — including those relatively close to home.
But my stomach began to drop — and if I’m being honest, my heart broke just a little bit — as I watched his focus shift from schools on the East Coast and the Midwest (where we live) to southern California. He’ll be studying film, so it made logical sense that he was drawn there.
As he started to whittle down his list, and it came down to two SoCal schools, a tough reality set in: He will be much further away for college than I anticipated or wished.
I can’t just hop in my car and drive to see him whenever I want, and he can’t just grab an Uber home to do laundry or join us for Sunday supper on a whim. This is going to be a tidal shift.
My son is ready for this next step, but I’m not sure I am
We recently traveled to Los Angeles as a family to tour his final college choices and to get a better feel for each campus. It immediately became apparent that he’s thrilled about heading to Los Angeles for his undergraduate degree. He’s ready to be close to the ocean, meet new friends, and dive headfirst into his film studies.
We did all the touristy things: drove to the Hollywood sign, strolled the Walk of Fame, and grabbed breakfast at Grand Central Market. All the while, I could see him sizing up the city and settling in. I have no doubt he’ll make LA his home in no time.
My husband and I have done all we can to prepare and equip him for this new chapter. While our son is raring to go and ready to meet the world on his own terms, I’m not sure I’m ready for him to be thousands of miles away. I’m also not sure that matters.
While my emotions about his impending departure are valid, they are mine to handle, not his. This summer, I will do my best not to project big feelings onto my son. Instead, I will focus on all the exciting things ahead of him as he transitions into adulthood — even if that transition takes place halfway across the country and out of my immediate view. Southwest has direct flights, after all.
And while my relationship with my kid might be shifting and evolving, it’s not disappearing and will never go away. I’m still his mom and always will be, no matter how far away he is. But it’s time for me to take a step back, watch him soar, and be ready as a safety net — even if it’s on FaceTime instead of in person.
In the meantime, get ready world. Here he comes.
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