On Thursday, my son finished up his junior year of high school, and today his dad, little sister and I drove him 75 miles to the Rhode Island School of Design, where he’ll spend the next 6 weeks immersed in Art. He’ll spend much of that time muddying his clothes in the ceramics studio, with his hands elbow-deep in clay that turns magical in his two hands — hands that have turned sinewy and strong from all his time at the potter’s wheel.
He hugged me and patted my back with those hands when we left to drive back home. He’s gone to summer camps before. But this was the first time that he didn’t push me toward the exit with impatience, counting the seconds before I would stop embarrassing him, or smothering him, or fretting too much, or whatever it is that I do that usually drives him absolutely crazy. “Thanks, Mom,” he said instead.
We were standing in his dorm room, the place that will be his home for the next six weeks. I don’t think he was talking about the twin-sized bed I had just made up for him, with the freshly purchased extra-long sheets and the fleece blanket from his bed at home. He seemed to be talking about something else entirely, and it was that other thing that caused a sudden lump to rise in my throat.
I had noticed it earlier: He walked with ease with the three of us around the campus, getting the lay of the land, taking it all in like he always does — like he always has since his newborn eyes focused so intently that as a new and nervous mother I was convinced it was the sign of a vision problem.
As we walked around the campus, and checked him in, and picked up his ID card, and visited the health office, and the housing office, and all that, he didn’t say much, really. But it was more what wasn’t there that I noticed: The way he didn’t walk two steps ahead of us or loiter behind us. The way he didn’t look away — seemingly mortified at being caught red-handed with the ridiculous people who spawned him — when we passed another student on the brick sidewalks near the school. The way that he didn’t roll his eyes when I clarified with the kitchen attendant some specifics of his meal plan, or got the exact coordinates of the laundry facility. And when I relayed it back, he actually listened, and he didn’t cut me off with an impatient, “O-kay! I know!”
In other words, he didn’t act one bit like he’d rather be anywhere else except where he was at that very moment, interacting with anyone else except me. If you have a teenager, or you’ve ever been one, you can recognize that behavior.
His “thank you” in the dorm room was for help with all of that, I think. But also for putting him there at all. By that I mean writing the check, of course. But more than that: for racing in the pouring rain to the post office to make the application deadline. For slogging through the confusing reams of paperwork the college sent. For the marathon seven loads of laundry just the day before. The desperate run for deodorant. The last-ditch stop on the way because I was worried he wouldn’t have enough cash for supplies. For the opportunity he seemed suddenly awed to realize he had been given.
I could fool myself into thinking that his thank you meant more than that: that he was grateful for all the stuff that fell into place in the 17 years leading up to today, too: All of the mostly thankless and unacknowledged stuff that I do, and any parent does, just to keep our kids healthy and happy and safely out of the path of a moving bus, those that are actual as well as metaphorical. But he probably wasn’t thinking of that, of course. Love rolls down hill. It’ll be years and years (I hope) before he has his own family and he’ll come close to understanding any of it.
All afternoon, in the back of my mind, while we zipped around the campus on foot on a hot, muggy day, I tried to think of a word that might describe how completely happy he was to be there, how excited, how amazed at the possibilities, how completely turned on he felt.
And then I tried to think of how it felt, as a parent, to see him so happy and alive. Most parents might describe it as pride, I guess. But pride doesn’t come close, because it’s not about me. It’s about him. What’s a word that describes how you feel when one of the people you love most in the world, one of the very few people you would gladly suffer deeply for, would do just about anything for just because they asked — no questions asked, no strings attached, no payment required — without resentment, or anything even close to anger or complaint, and in fact would see it as a kind of duty and honor? What’s the word for a kind of love that fills you up to the point that it overflows the brim?
Whatever you call it, that’s what rose in my throat today, and rendered me unable to tell him, right then, that I was happy for him. That I loved him. I hoped he’d have the time of his life, and goodbye.
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Absolutely beautiful.
A very timely piece to read since I just left my 11 year old off at camp yesterday. This is our third year and each drop-off is different. She was nervous, excited, and not sure how to say goodbye to me (though I know it was harder than she let on). Thanks for sharing your story. It brought tears to my eyes and reminds me that time is moving quickly for us as a family and to cherish each drop-off and transition with our loved ones. It is a great honor to love my daughter and to experience that love you describe. The one you would gladly suffer for. Beautiful.
A very timely piece to read since I just left my 11 year old off at camp yesterday. This is our third year and each drop-off is different. She was nervous, excited, and not sure how to say goodbye to me (though I know it was harder than she let on). Thanks for sharing your story. It brought tears to my eyes and reminds me that time is moving quickly for us as a family and to cherish each drop-off and transition with our loved ones. It is a great honor to love my daughter and to experience that love you describe. The one you would gladly suffer for. Beautiful.
Ann,
I should be completing a Status Report about my meeting today, AND, I had to thank you for so eloquently expressing the feelings that proud parents have when their child shows signs of maturity — or is it signs of them becoming what we really wanted them to be? Or is it signs that they have responded the way WE wish we had?
Less tweeting, more blogging; please!
BARQ (Jeff)
Ann,
I should be completing a Status Report about my meeting today, AND, I had to thank you for so eloquently expressing the feelings that proud parents have when their child shows signs of maturity — or is it signs of them becoming what we really wanted them to be? Or is it signs that they have responded the way WE wish we had?
Less tweeting, more blogging; please!
BARQ (Jeff)
Ann – as always a great piece that cuts to the heart. As the mother of a soon to be college freshmen, I feel much of the same.
You know I’ll be calling you for a shoulder to cry on.
Love, Bethann
Ann – as always a great piece that cuts to the heart. As the mother of a soon to be college freshmen, I feel much of the same.
You know I’ll be calling you for a shoulder to cry on.
Love, Bethann
Ann, I think the word is “LOVE”. You already knew that, right? As always this is another brilliant piece of writing that takes me right to that college campus where you were with your son. I can’t wait until its my turn, although its still another 15 or so years away. In the meantime, I better continue investing in the bond that we have already started building. Once again thanks for letting us into your amazing world.
Ann, I think the word is “LOVE”. You already knew that, right? As always this is another brilliant piece of writing that takes me right to that college campus where you were with your son. I can’t wait until its my turn, although its still another 15 or so years away. In the meantime, I better continue investing in the bond that we have already started building. Once again thanks for letting us into your amazing world.
What a beautiful post — thank you for taking the time to write it and for reminding all of us parents about the unbelievable gift we’ve been given. There’s nothing more amazing and awe-inspiring than the opportunity to love someone as much as we love our children and to watch them grow each day into the people they were meant to become.
What a beautiful post — thank you for taking the time to write it and for reminding all of us parents about the unbelievable gift we’ve been given. There’s nothing more amazing and awe-inspiring than the opportunity to love someone as much as we love our children and to watch them grow each day into the people they were meant to become.
So well put. Try distilling that to 140 characters – it would have become meaningless.
As my Dad often tells me about parenting – it’s just the first fifty or sixty years that are hard, after that it gets easier.
Well done Ann. I’ve signed up for the RSS!
So well put. Try distilling that to 140 characters – it would have become meaningless.
As my Dad often tells me about parenting – it’s just the first fifty or sixty years that are hard, after that it gets easier.
Well done Ann. I’ve signed up for the RSS!
Ahhh Ann – Perfectly put – again.
I just spent over a week in the endless rain with my husband’s extended family. Along the way I had a private heart to heart with my days shy of 51 year old child-less brother in law about parenting. He is seriously involved with a much younger woman and is surveying his friends with the question “if it was physically possible would you have another child …now.” After much discussion and opinion sharing I finally said if you’ve never had a child you should, it doesn’t matter how old you are. You can’t imagine the love, feelings and emotions that lie dormant in you – age shouldn’t matter if you are not limited physically. He looked at me amazed and said I was the first to say that- all of his friends, peers, parents with teenagers and/or younger children seemed to focus more on the “work” or the required energy and the “oh, I could never do it again.” Your post puts into words what I never seem able to put into words – thanks for sharing your gift.
Ahhh Ann – Perfectly put – again.
I just spent over a week in the endless rain with my husband’s extended family. Along the way I had a private heart to heart with my days shy of 51 year old child-less brother in law about parenting. He is seriously involved with a much younger woman and is surveying his friends with the question “if it was physically possible would you have another child …now.” After much discussion and opinion sharing I finally said if you’ve never had a child you should, it doesn’t matter how old you are. You can’t imagine the love, feelings and emotions that lie dormant in you – age shouldn’t matter if you are not limited physically. He looked at me amazed and said I was the first to say that- all of his friends, peers, parents with teenagers and/or younger children seemed to focus more on the “work” or the required energy and the “oh, I could never do it again.” Your post puts into words what I never seem able to put into words – thanks for sharing your gift.
Until you have a child you never understand that lump in the throat. Thank you for showing a human side of the world during a time we all need an escape.
Until you have a child you never understand that lump in the throat. Thank you for showing a human side of the world during a time we all need an escape.
This is when yiddish comes in handy. I’m neither a parent nor a jew, but after spending 20 years in Madison Avenue agencies I picked up some good words. Kvell is one of them.
Yiddish is the best language. They have word that describe undescrib-able feelings.
This is when yiddish comes in handy. I’m neither a parent nor a jew, but after spending 20 years in Madison Avenue agencies I picked up some good words. Kvell is one of them.
Yiddish is the best language. They have word that describe undescrib-able feelings.
@Michelle Farnum – that is a great word! Kvell.
Thanks Ann … this is why blogs are not dead
Where else do we get a story that touches our hearts because it comes from the heart? It must be exciting (and slightly daunting) to be pushing your child out into the ocean of life. Of course, as we do so – with great care – we imagine our kids as small boats made of folded newspaper. Yet when they return they are seaworthy, burnished by the salt and riding the waves.
I hope I am as brave as you when my kids head off to college. Oh, and are you writing a book? You should.
@Michelle Farnum – that is a great word! Kvell.
Thanks Ann … this is why blogs are not dead
Where else do we get a story that touches our hearts because it comes from the heart? It must be exciting (and slightly daunting) to be pushing your child out into the ocean of life. Of course, as we do so – with great care – we imagine our kids as small boats made of folded newspaper. Yet when they return they are seaworthy, burnished by the salt and riding the waves.
I hope I am as brave as you when my kids head off to college. Oh, and are you writing a book? You should.
Touching, heart-warming & tender. A great write up about your feelings. I don’t know your son but I know he has a terrific mom. As I read it I was actually imagining the scene unfolding in front of me.
Touching, heart-warming & tender. A great write up about your feelings. I don’t know your son but I know he has a terrific mom. As I read it I was actually imagining the scene unfolding in front of me.
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Here I am getting ready to drop my daughter off for her first overnight camp (only 3 days) and my son for his first week of camp and this post brought up all kinds of emotions.
As always your writing captures the magic and emotion of the moment. Please never stop sharing. Pretty please.
Thank you. *grin*
Here I am getting ready to drop my daughter off for her first overnight camp (only 3 days) and my son for his first week of camp and this post brought up all kinds of emotions.
As always your writing captures the magic and emotion of the moment. Please never stop sharing. Pretty please.
Thank you. *grin*
Twitter Comment
A must read for parents as we send our kids away to camp – [link to post] – Posted using Chat Catcher
Twitter Comment
A must read for parents as we send our kids away to camp – [link to post]
– Posted using Chat Catcher
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RT @digitaldads A must read for parents as we send our kids away to camp – [link to post] – Posted using Chat Catcher
Twitter Comment
RT @digitaldads A must read for parents as we send our kids away to camp – [link to post]
– Posted using Chat Catcher
Ann, this is so right! You have so perfectly captured this threshold moment of parent and children in which we feel that extraordinary connection and their being in and of their own person. As my son reaches his 21st birthday today and my daughter, 17, heads to college orientation in just a few days, I celebrate this moment with you. Thank you.
Ann, this is so right! You have so perfectly captured this threshold moment of parent and children in which we feel that extraordinary connection and their being in and of their own person. As my son reaches his 21st birthday today and my daughter, 17, heads to college orientation in just a few days, I celebrate this moment with you. Thank you.
You make me laugh and cry at the same time, all the time. Such a culmination of years, raw experience and emotion. I hope he has a blast and embraces his gifts like you do.
You make me laugh and cry at the same time, all the time. Such a culmination of years, raw experience and emotion. I hope he has a blast and embraces his gifts like you do.
Beautiful article, Ann…I’m usually at a loss to explain the joys of parenting to someone that doesn’t have children. I just realized that the lump in the throat is beyond words. Well, it was until a few minutes ago.
Beautiful article, Ann…I’m usually at a loss to explain the joys of parenting to someone that doesn’t have children. I just realized that the lump in the throat is beyond words. Well, it was until a few minutes ago.
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Thank you so much for this. *sniff* I hope my 11 yr old son and I have a moment even close to this when the time comes. ; )
Thank you so much for this. *sniff* I hope my 11 yr old son and I have a moment even close to this when the time comes. ; )
jeez ann – every time i read one of your posts i say to myself “wow! this is the best one yet!”
but ya know what? This one IS the best yet. Wow!
you write circles around everyone else.
BL
jeez ann – every time i read one of your posts i say to myself “wow! this is the best one yet!”
but ya know what? This one IS the best yet. Wow!
you write circles around everyone else.
BL
As tears roll down my face, I am deeply touched by your loss for words. I'm a mom of young children and I can only imagine what it will be like when my kids are going to camp and college. I also like your observation that love rolls downhill. You don't fully realize it all until you are a parent and appreciate the circle of life. I hope your son had a wonderful experience!
This post leaves me breathless. Just beautiful. I wish I knew the word for that kind of love because I know exactly what you're talking about it. I feel it every time I lay eyes on my six year old son. How I hope he and I reach the wonderful place you've gotten to with your son.
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Lotuses are 5 species of water lilies, three in the genus Nymphaea and two in Nelumbo
fake handbags;
both genera are members of the water-lily family
fake handbag,
Nymphaea lotus, the Egyptian white lotus, is believed to be the original sacred lotus of ancient Egypt
discount handbags.
It and the Egyptian blue lotus, N. caerulea, were often pictured in ancient Egyptian art
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The common Egyptian replica purses “lotus” is actually correctly called a water
lily: the white lotus opens at dusk, the blue water lilly opens in the morning. jl