I don’t normally use this blog for this kind of personal revelations but the fact is I’m hurting today.
Because it’s the day that I’ve been dreading for 18 years…the day I send my little girl, Kara, to college.
Yes, I know one 1.5 million other kids are going to college this fall and Bill Caskey is not alone in the void he’s fearing this will
leave in his life going forward. It’s just a fact of life…we birth them…we nourish them…we teach them…and we kick them out of the nest. It must be that way.
But it leaves me no less sad.
Why is it bitter?
In a weird way, even though they depend on you for nurturing, food, coaching and support, interestingly it’s you that depends on them as they grow older.
You depend on them for their enthusiasm – their humor – their energy for life – their mischievousness.
You depend upon them for feedback on how you’re doing as a parent.
You depend on them, in some odd way, to live out your unfinished business…or on things you feel like you missed when you were their age. (It’s one of those things no parent admits, but I’m afraid we all do it.)
Right about the time you see a glimpse of excellence, when they become older, more mature and can carry on conversations with you (and actually seem to care about some of the things you’re doing) you kick them out of the nest.
It’s bitter because of the void they leave.
Why is it sweet?
Because you get to see your creation, 18 years in the making, begin to make their mark in the world.
You see them interact with new people who will have an impact on their lives forever.
You observe them study things they want to, rather than things they have to.
You watch them make some tough life decisions that are impossible to train them for–until they must make them on their own.
It’s sweet because you remember you (38 years ago when I walked on the very same campus she’s walking on.) And I remember how important it was for me to begin a new life, independent of the parents raised me. I recall my excitement for this new era.
And it’s sweet because it’s “new chapters” all around. For them, for you, for their friends and the parents of their friends.
So for me, it’s in no way a broken heart because I’m so proud of the young lady she’s become.
It’s just a heart with a bit of a void in it for now. It will heal in time …. and likely become stronger because of it.
But for today, when my baby goes to college, I will cry.