FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

The discussion on Morning Joe drew me in this morning. I was writing and drinking coffee, half listening when I heard Joe lamenting about the anguish of dropping kids off at school. At least that was what I assumed the conversation to be about. As is my wont, I muttered my disagreement. " For heaven's sake Joe, where are you dropping them off, federal prison?"

Then, I heard the rest of the story. Chris Matthews spoke of how he felt when he dropped his youngest off...at college. My eyes filled with tears.

I can remember the first day at college for each of our three millenials.  Thinking of those first days fills me with nostalgia, and brimming eyes, warm feelings as well as pride and great joy: truly a mixture of emotions.

With our firstborn, a son, I had two opportunities “to practice” letting go before college drop off day. One chance came during a  month- long summer opera camp on a college campus 170 miles from home. The other practice “test” occurred the following summer when he attended a marine science camp an hour away from home. Our daughters say that the month of the marine camp, every time I walked past his room, I cried. It's probably quite true. 

When he went to college,  he filled his Mitsubishi with lots of his "stuff"; we filled our SUV with even more. They had us park it seemed a block away and did they have carts to help carry all the stuff? I don't remember that. There were many trips to the cars and a walk up to the second floor.

It was a very nice new building, a learning community where faculty lived in the same building with the students. They had seminar classes in the building where they lived and if the students chose to, they could  attend wearing their  pajamas!

He allowed me to set up his bed-- I wanted to do that. He and his dad set up the wire shelving which held his computer, printer, monitor, sound system, TV, phone.

( I'm pretty sure this was before everyone had cell phones.)

Then, he was ready for us to leave...and after tearful goodbyes and one more hug...a couple of times,  his father  led me by the hand to our car and we drove away. I was leaving my heart behind.

You might think that you get better at this. I did not.

Our first born daughter, adventurer that she is, did not opt for "normal" freshman orientation. No;  she chose the week of camping and bonding with faculty and other freshmen for a week called Eagle Adventure.

Not having been an outdoor girl myself, I was skeptical to say the least, but I kept my doubts to myself. They were, after all,  my doubts-- no reason to share them with our determined and fearless explorer. 

We arrived at dorm check-in at the appointed time. The camper adventurers arrived 2 hours later...covered with mud and sweat and smelling not so great.

We got the opportunity to wait, as they ate pizza and were debriefed about their reactions and impressions, what they had learned about themselves through this experience.

Filled with nervous energy and unable to do nothing, I made her bed, set up her sleeping space and we all unloaded her stuff into her room. It was all set up, perhaps not exactly to her liking, but she was spared the third floor walk up with each load.

When she finally detached from them and arrived at her new room, her face shone – despite the dust and sweat-- with exhilaration and exultation. Victorious, she was ready to conquer,  and she did -- the rest of her college career.

She was immediately ready to send us on our way, so she could shower change and get on with college freshman life. I tried not to take it personally-- I know it was not, personal, I mean -- and I had gotten to experience that sense of " mission accomplished dismissal" before... many times.

When I dropped them off at ...sleep away camp, birthday sleep-overs, choir trips, and with our first born... even at Montessori school!  

We had gone to inquire about his attending a particular Montessori school; we never even got to audition a second selection.   He loved it on visiting day.

He was forlorn at the prospect of leaving when the brief visit was over. He was unwilling to wait till the fall. He began attending the very next day. And, when I dropped him off-- no teary good bye from him, no sir!

It was, "Bye mom. See you later. And, he was off!

Next time: Part II