The First Day

When you have kids, you typically go to great lengths to plan for their arrival. You recognize that certain activities in your life will give way to family events—preschool performances, dance recitals, sporting events, scouting programs, birthday parties…the list goes on. Family time becomes the focus of your daily scheduling. What you don’t plan for, and what takes you by surprise, is their departure.

The night before, we packed up all of the things that she would need. We carefully placed each item in her bag. There was the first check, the second check, and ultimately the last check. Did she have everything? I was sure she did. When I walked into her room to kiss her goodnight, all the goodnight kisses of the past came flooding into my brain. Where had the time gone? My little girl was all grown up.

The next morning the entire family piled into the car. I think parents and daughter alike were both excited…and nervous. I bit my bottom lip to make sure that the flow of tears didn’t begin before we dropped her off. The drive seemed to take forever. It was a very long five miles. I worried if she would be all right, if they would treat her kindly. Would she be able to open her lunch box all by herself? The knot inside my stomach continued to grow.

As we pulled into the parking lot, parents and children were holding hands, hugging, and smiling. There were backpacks and lunch boxes. I helped my baby girl out of the car as my husband gathered her bags. We all held hands as we crossed the parking lot to the door. I felt like I was in a time warp. It didn’t seem real.

When we finally reached the door to the school, I stroked her hair and held her face as I willed myself not to cry. As she watched all the other children, I noticed the excitement in my daughter’s eyes. She was ready to go. It was time. I hugged her and kissed her cheek, and then she was gone. She rushed to join the flow of children entering the school building.

What would I do now? My baby was gone. She was all grown up! Tears welled in the corner of my eyes. I looked back at the door to the school and wondered about what she might be doing and how she was getting along. Somehow I forced myself to begin the long walk back to the car.

Then I looked down at my son and quickly realized that there was still work to do! Number two had quite some time before this day would come for him. My job as Mommy was not as far done as I was beginning to think. There were still so many adventures to come. Kindergarten was just the beginning!

The Peace of Labor Day

When you have kids, you typically go to great lengths to plan their arrival. You recognize that certain activities in your life will give way to family events—preschool performances, dance recitals, sporting events, birthday parties…the list goes on. Family time becomes the focus of your daily scheduling. What you don’t plan for, and what takes you by surprise, is their departure. I’ve been talking recently with friends as they are making plans to take their “babies” off to college. It made me recall my experiences.

Labor Day 2004. A long three-day weekend. Both of the kids were home. My son had just completed his summer program at the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, and my daughter was home for the long weekend before she became engrossed with her senior year of college. Just the family.

I usually don’t enjoy cooking, but when the whole family is at home, cooking is something that I rarely mind doing. Setting the table for all four of us somehow makes me feel quite happy. Saturday and Sunday I cooked a big breakfast. After we ate, we sat and the table and talked and laughed for quite some time.

We spent time out by the pool—lots of quality family time. The end of summer was fast approaching, but we enjoyed summer’s pleasures that weekend. Crabs, baseball, sunshine, and swimming.

It went by all too fast. Monday morning we loaded up the car with all of my son’s gear and would soon be on our way to the train station at BWI airport. He was off to begin his freshman year of college. It was an exciting time. But as I stood at his bedroom door and gazed at the things that were so much a part of his growing up, it was a sad time. “Come on, Mom,” I heard my son bellow, “we’ll be late!”

I stood on the platform and watched that train until it was no longer visible. Then my husband and I got back in the car for the return trip home. Our daughter was still there, packing up for her ride back to college. We helped her pack up the car, hugged and kissed her, and then watched her back out of the driveway and head down the road.

That’s when it hit me. I turned to my husband and realized that it was just the two of us. We held hands and walked back into our empty nest. I know that there were tears in my eyes, but by the time we had settled into our chairs in the family room to finally read the newspapers from the weekend, I felt strangely at peace. This was the way it was supposed to be. We had prepared our kids to go off and do wonderful things, to learn, and to live. It was time for us to do the same thing.

I think it was then that I realized I had about three chapters to read for my master’s class. My homework was calling me. It was once again time to start down a new road to adventure!

This blog post appeared as my column, The Empty Nest, in the Sunday September 5, 2011, edition of the Frederick News Post.