Recently I learned that Lesson #4576 in Motherhood is that sending your kid back to college after Christmas break is almost as hard as dropping them off at their dorms for the first time in the fall.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I would feel like watching my son drive off after having him back home for 5 weeks. I knew I would miss him again. I knew it wouldn’t be easy…but I guess I didn’t expect my heart to end up back in the blender like it did. For 5 weeks my house was filled with noise, irreverent conversations, hugs from a man-child who towers over me at 6’3″, constant raiding of the kitchen, and the sharing of smells that only teenaged boys can provide a home with. If you know, you know.
All of the din and cacophony were so welcome after months of silence. I still have one child at home, but she’s quiet as a mouse compared to her larger than life brother….and it’s so funny, because I remember wishing for some peace and quiet almost religiously for years (again, if you know you know). Yet now that the house is so quiet you realize how much you miss those explosions of proof of life within your four walls when they’re gone.
A few days before my boy was scheduled to head back up to school, I started to feel the drag on my heart. I helped him re-pack because, of course, nothing ever fits back into bags like they should at the end of any vacation….plus then there are Christmas gifts! Got all his laundry done and squared away, made sure he was topped-up on his vitamins, supplements, and hygiene stuff. He started leaving his teen-cave more and hanging out with me even just on the short rides to pick up his sister from school. He did this during the last weeks of summer too. My often know-it-all- I’m-grown, kid just wanting to spend extra moments with his mama. Oh. My. Heart.
Then the night before came, and the next day. He hauled his bags into the back of his dad’s truck, gave me bear hugs, and was back off to dorm life in the mountains. My heart both crushed and expanding all at once, all over again.
The next day I walked by his empty room, lay on his bed, buried my face in his pillow and cried for a bit. Then I got back up, because adulthood and responsibilities don’t allow for wallowing…and let myself be happy and excited for him and his new semester, knowing full well that Spring break and summer vacation will place me right back firmly at the front of the Great Emotional Roller Coaster.
I’ve heard this continues happening every year and after every break. I like being prepared for this. I also hear that you start appreciating your empty nest and the freedom it allows you to have after almost two decades of raising your babies. I don’t know about that last part for me, though. I do love my alone time and some peace and quiet….but I think I will always and forever miss having my babies at home.
I do believe it will become more and more special when they do hop back into the nest for a visit as the years continue to move forward. I know with my son, I have already seen such massive growth, maturity and a sense of humility coupled with an ability to be truly introspective that didn’t exist to this capacity just a few months ago. I know that college is not for everyone, but I see that college has given my son the independence to start figuring out who he is and what he wants out of life…and to be very honest, I am blown away by his choices and accomplishments already. I suppose this is nature’s way of caring for our mama-hearts…giving us these glimpses into how our kids will rewire their adulthoods. That makes me happy.
I think a lot about the fact that after my freshman year in college, I never really went back home. It only saddens me because I wish I would have spent that time with my dad…I know he would have liked that. I know he missed me. I also know that he wanted what was best for me and never guilted me about my choices. He knew that my choices were born from the fact that I struggled to be under the same roof as my mom.
What so many people I grew up with, outside of immediate family, didn’t realize is, that my mother wrestled with mental and emotional demons all her life which affected my dad and I deeply. I did not know what a supportive, loving mother was supposed to be like outside of what I saw on sitcoms and movies. Chaos and fear were my normals.
My dad and I were left to pick up the pieces she would leave in her wake and push forward trying to achieve a sense of normalcy. Desperate to make the world believe that we were doing great. We weren’t. College for me was my chance to escape. My dad knew that, and I am forever grateful that he mended the wings my mother clipped so that I could fly, even if it meant he’d rarely get to see me after that.
I am also grateful every day that I was able to break the cycle of dysfunction that I grew up with. I made a promise to myself as a kid that I would never put my kids through what I went through….and I kept that promise. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t have much to pull from as an example of what I should be like. Couldn’t call my mom up to ask for advice when my kids were sick or misbehaving. It was all trial and error, but somehow, by the grace of God and the unconditional love I got from my dad, my aunt and my uncle…I somehow did it. Despite the struggles of my son’s health issues when he was younger, divorce, and financial worries….I somehow did it.
How do I know I did it? I know because, unlike me, my college kid loves coming home. He loves being here. Even though I am often “uncool, so-old, have too many rules”….he loves it here. He texts me every day and tells me all of his worries, happy moments, and ideas. I get multiple memes and reels sent to my Instagram and TikTok from him at all hours of the day and night. He tells me everything…sometimes too much. He feels safe, loved, and supported. That’s all I could ever want or ask for.
I know now that if your kids love coming home, no matter how old they are, it means you did a a great job as a parent (even though we all feel like we never do enough, and we all feel like failures more often than not). So, even though Lesson #4576 in Motherhood is hard….there is so much beauty in the heartache of knowing that your new life includes learning and re-learning how to let your kids go….but that they will always come home a little bigger, a little smarter, and a little more amazing…and that’s because you loved them and they know it.
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