College Move in Day

College move-in day is probably one of the most exciting events to happen in a young person's life. Freedom and a real grown up life await them. They've nervous but with expectant anticipation of all the fun and adventure that awaits them. They can't wait till Mom and Dad finally drive off and just leave them alone to explore, make new friends, be independent for the first time in their young adult life.

It's a different story for Mom and Dad. Today, I hugged and said goodbye to the youngest of our five children, my baby daughter, at the entrance to her college dorm. She stood on the sidewalk, waving goodbye to her father and I as we pulled away, blowing kisses to us, a huge grin plastered on her face. As I watched, she turned and literally skipped into her dorm, ready to tackle college and her new life.

I watched her walk away and then collapsed in a sobbing heap in the front seat. My dear husband patted my shoulder with tears welling up in his eyes and tried to console me. We thought we were prepared, that finally after five children and 34 years of children, we were going to be the most ecstatic empty nesters of all time. We were sure it wouldn't end the same way it had ended with everyone of her siblings, with Mom crying all the way home and both of us feeling lost and bereft for weeks. We should have known better.

Why the tears? Fear, anxiety, loneliness, sadness, a mingled, mangled mess of emotions for a mother who will truly miss her youngest daughter. I came home and immediately went to her room and sat on her bed, looking around at the chaos she had left behind from the morning's frantic packing. I made her bed, smoothed the covers and looked around the room at the remnants of her teen life,

I saw her beautiful face everywhere. Volleyball team photos and prom pictures. Her guitar in one corner, her crazy mix of old stuffed animals piled in a red lounge chair. Paintings she'd painted herself, and ribbons from 4H projects tacked on a bulletin board with old concert stub tickets and on top of her bookshelf, the empty box of candy from her first love. So many mementos of a little girl turned young lady becoming a strong woman. She is a shining light, a genuine beauty, full of love, loyalty and intellect with a generous mix of humour and kindness thrown in. She's perfect. And she's gone now.

I think perhaps the tears are for the realization that her life from me, apart from me is now the most important thing. She holds the future in her own hands completely. My work is done. All my hopes and dreams for her, all the values and beliefs I want her to cherish cannot change the fact that she is now going to become her own woman. It all sounds so trite, but she's going to choose her own destiny now.

She will never walk back into her old life. When she returns at Christmas, she will be changed, no longer my baby, but a new creation, one of her own making. How will I survive till then? The same way I survived each of the farewells of her siblings before her; slowly, painfully, mourning their absence and grieving for the end of their childhood. And then slowly celebrating the wonderfully unique men and women they each became.

This last parting however, is more poignant than the previous, for she truly is the last. I am free now to chart my own course, without the demands and restrictions of constant day to day motherhood. Tomorrow, I can choose my own path, do whatever it is I wish. I can reacquaint myself with my husband and mate. I can travel without rushing home to be at a soccer or volleyball game. I can paint my own pictures, buy new curtains instead of prom dresses and a never ending supply of athletic shoes.

She was an accidental birth. We were older, the other children age 9 to 15, and there she was. I was 38; really didn't want to be a mother of a baby again, but she came anyway;bursting into our lives like an angel. Everyone of us, the children, and my husband and I, worshiped her from the moment she entered the world. I always said that God sent us an angel because we were all too busy for a monster! She has been the most supreme blessing a man and a woman could ask for. Always with a smile, full of joy and love and hope and all the good things of life.

For both of us now, she at age 18, and I at age 56, we can make our own choices, chart our own paths and when we meet again, it will be as woman to woman, friend to friend, and always mother and daughter, a love affair that will never end. I shall survive this loss, this severing of bond between us as countless mothers and daughters have done, but I will never forget the joy she brought to my life. I am so glad God sent her to me.