In 28 days, I will heading to pick Z up to come home for the summer. He will be home for four months before heading back to start his sophomore year of college. These next 28 days are busy and full as spring with kiddos always is. They will simply speed by without much space to even catch my breath. Hopefully, we will even get a few days with Z before he comes home, a weekend away when his brothers have April vacation and his dad celebrates one of those milestone birthdays.
I know he still has a lot of work ahead of him, papers, exams, finals. But I feel relieved. Somehow, we all adjusted. We all figured out how to move forward and continue on. Of course we did. Of course, it has all worked out just fine. My heart wasn’t always so sure that I would figure out how to adjust, but here we are. Figuring out the rough logistics of getting him and all his stuff home in under a month.
Last year at this time, we were knee deep in the college decision. Would he head off to DC for school? Would he stay in this state? How much debt did he want to take on for his undergrad? At this point last year, he and I were firmly team DC, while D was firmly in the minimal to no debt camp, which meant DC was out. While I knew well just how far away DC was, Z had loved the school. He was excited about the program there, the opportunity to intern at NASA. Who wouldn’t be? Also, it was where D and I met and fell in love several decades ago when we were freshmen in college. So many things pulling for it. We were all focused on the decision, not the practicality and what the day to day would look like. In the end, he chose to go to college thirty minutes away and acquire no debt. He is sensible and pragmatic and not as drawn in by the prestige, the name, the shininess of the place. And while I think he would have had a great experience in DC, I don’t know how being 450 miles away from home would have affected that experience.
I am so glad he is not a day’s drive away.
When I think about this time last year, I know I had not yet processed that this big decision meant he was leaving. I’ve said it before, I know it sounds strange. But I was so focused on each step in front of Z—choosing schools to apply to, visiting those schools, the application process, hearing from schools, figuring out where he wanted to be. The focus was on him making the best, right decision. How that decision would affect me didn’t come until the pieces had all fallen into place.
I’ve thought a lot about the past year and my sadness. (Because despite wishing I could just let things be, I still overthink. I am a psychologist, after all.) I am the oldest in my family. I didn’t experience the shift in family dynamics when a sibling left. I started that shift. I can remember, years ago, a friend who has two older siblings talking with me about how disruptive it felt when her siblings left and came back from college. I remember in part because I had not really thought about it before then. But here I am, now, as a parent, watching our family shift and change to accommodate Z’s absence.
I have watched M take almost every opportunity to visit Z. He is often quiet on our visits, but I can see him listening intently to Z as he talks about college life. The opportunity to visit a college campus, multiple times, to hear about classes and cafeterias and friends and professors and all these things clearly holds his interest. L, on the other hand, seems to have slipped right into the role of oldest child in the house. He doesn’t have time to have dinner or breakfast with Z, having declined to join us on any visit.
Z has wanted to come home to celebrate both his brothers’ birthdays, to see them in their shows. He has welcomed visits from us. He fills me in on his classes, his roommate dynamics, his waning enthusiasm for cafeteria food, his hopes for studying abroad, his changing interests. He hugs me tightly and for a long time when we say goodbye. And it means the world to me.
When the college decision was made and I realized, seemingly suddenly, that Z would be leaving, I realized that the days with the other two were also numbered. And so, that wave of grief and sadness at him leaving was also my first grappling with knowing that this role that has been central for the past 19 years would soon be facing a reduction in force, if you will. I say first grappling, but truly, I had thought about this four years ago when I decided to step away from my job and start a private practice. I wanted to spend time with my kids before they left. I just wasn’t really thinking about the leaving part.
So here I am. Knowing that Z has almost finished his first year in college. Knowing that he will be home in a month. Knowing that we have adjusted to the change, to the routines of Z’s absence and presence. Knowing that he is so close, that he is willing and happy to see me fairly regularly. Knowing that he and college are quite compatible.
For so many years, I was there with him, every day. I knew his bad days, his good days, his ordinary days. I knew and provided most of his meals. I washed his clothes, changed his sheets. Mirrored back his accomplishments, his kindness, his joy, his love and when he let me, held his sadness, his disappointments, his confusion with him.
He is making his own way. He knows the path now, knows he can handle it on his own.
He is shining on his own.
And I’m still here, mirroring it right back to him.
I always will.
An apricot picked right off a given tree
I gave water to the soil and now it feeds me,
And there you are, shaded underneath it all
I feel proud of who I am, because you need me.
And I will lead you down that road if you lose your way
Born to be a protector.
Even though I know some day you're gonna shine on your own
I will be your projector.~Beyonce and Ryan Beatty
All photos were taken by the exceptional Dana Giuliana, unless otherwise noted.
So lovely.