I am posting something below that I wrote on August 20, 2009 as we were preparing to take our girls off to college for the first time. It seems unreal that four years have passed, and they will be graduating from Texas A&M University in a few weeks. I will be writing about my thoughts on this milestone in their lives sometime next week, and I thought it would be good to post my perspective from four years ago before I write about graduation. So, here are my thoughts from 2009 . . .
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” ~Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie
I’m sitting here on the eve of taking our daughters to college, and my heart is full. The preparations have all been made – the apartment has been rented, the cable/internet service ordered, the electricity is scheduled to be turned on, some “brawny young men” have been enticed by the offer of free pizza to help us unload, the boxes and bags have been packed, and the truck is soon to be loaded and ready to go. Other, more important preparations have been made as well – SAT & ACT tests were taken, college prep courses were suffered through, college applications were filled out, acceptance letters received & rejoiced over, scholarship applications were poured over, and deadlines were met. High School graduation was earned & celebrated, and New Student Conferences & registration were attended. We have indeed checked everything off our lists, and the goal for which the girls have striven in earnest over the past few years is within reach. We leave for College Station early in the morning, where they will officially become Aggies. College students. Living on their own. Adults.
I’m not sure when this happened. It seems like only yesterday that we were buying first-day-of-school clothes for their big adventure into pre-school. I remember the sadness for me, coupled with excitement for them, that I felt the first time I left them at school. I really thought that the sadness was only going to be a one-time, first-year feeling, as we would settle in to a “school age” routine, and it would become commonplace. What I learned, though, was that EVERY first day of school brought feelings of sadness, as it became a tangible reminder for me of the swift passage of time, and the rapidity with which they were growing. Those feelings are even more pronounced this year.
From the time they were conceived, I have been told to enjoy every moment. I have made a conscious effort to do just that – I have tried to fully live and absorb every moment of every stage. (And, admittedly, some stages have been more enjoyable than others!) I know we have been working toward this moment since they were born – we have been raising them & teaching them to prepare them to LEAVE. And they are ready. I’m firmly convinced that these two young ladies are MILES ahead of where their mom was at their age in their maturity and spiritual strength. (For a glimpse into that, go read sarah’s blog @ www.pleonast.com/sarahs.) They are ready to embark on their college career, make their places in a new congregation, and be true lights in a world of darkness.
I’m very proud of them, and although I am admittedly a bit biased, I would dare say you will be hard pressed to find two more lovely, godly, sweet, caring, thoughtful, beautiful young ladies anywhere.
I love Erma Bombeck’s analogy to children as kites. She wrote, “You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach them. Finally they are airborne... They need more string and you keep letting it out. But with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar as it is meant to soar, free and alone. Only then do you know that you did your job." I don’t think our girls are ready to “snap the lifeline” completely, but I know they are ready & eager to begin the fraying process that will cause its ultimate break. And while part of me aches to see that happen, and will miss the daily interaction of having them living under our roof, I am trying hard to view it as just another “stage” in this wonderful parenting journey, and to embrace it fully. And I still have one chick left in the nest – for him I am thankful!
