Ready

On warm May evening many years ago—our last evening in our first house—I sat on the front stoop, looked up at the stars, and tried to imprint on my memory a moment that was pregnant with both history and promise. It was time to move on to a larger home, and we were ready.  I didn’t want to stay where we were, but I did want to take a moment to honor the many happy moments we had shared in our tiny bungalow.

Generally I have lived my life thinking forward. I don’t want to rush time, but each season has its own beauty, and usually I’m excited to see what comes next, in my own life and in the lives of my kids. As they’ve grown I’ve been appreciative of each stage, each milestone, each challenge, and happy to see them figure out how to get to the next one.

But for the past six months, as Kelsey has finished up high school and set her sights on college, time has gone by so quickly it takes my breath away.  I’ve tried to enjoy this time, and I think she has, too, but she is ready to leave some things behind and begin this next exciting chapter in her life.

She’s not the first child to exit our nest, and not the last, but this transition feels more difficult for me than when her older brothers headed out. Maybe it’s the mother/daughter thing: we’ve always been close, and to date have had little of the tension that can accompany these teenage relationships. Maybe it’s my age or hormones or phases of the moon. Whatever it is, it’s been difficult.

I’m an emotional person, but a month of brooding and tears is extreme. In an effort to shake it off, I tried to focus on the upside of Kelsey going off to college. Although I am crazy about her, she also makes me crazy with some of her behaviors. So here are the top five things I will NOT miss when Kelsey’s at college.

1.       I won’t miss getting up at 5:30 each school day to wake her up. I didn’t mind getting up early to see her off to school, and I didn’t mind making coffee (since most of it was for me). What bugged me was that I’d fill a travel mug for her each day—and at the end of the week, when she finally brought her collection of travel mugs in from the car, I’d pour almost all of it out. She rarely had time for more than a sip. You’d think I would have learned, but I didn’t. That also goes for item #2…

2.       I won’t miss making healthy lunches that she would pass on in favor of cafeteria French fries. She might eat part of the lunch, but she was especially good at ignoring anything perishable, like yogurt, which went bad after a day in a hot locker. I know that at her age I didn’t owe it to her to make a lunch, but I was making them for the younger kids, so what’s one more? Anyway, I did figure that one out and stopped making her lunches…eventually.

3.       I won’t miss her stuff. Everywhere. The car she was using was pretty much a four-wheeled purse, littered with all manner of empty food containers, clothing, and memorabilia. If she’s in the house, there is evidence of it on every flat surface of our ample home. Her purse, her shoes, her keys, her shoes, her sunglasses, her backpack…and did I mention her shoes? Some people have a place for everything and everything in its place; Kelsey has everything and nothing has a place. Which leads us to #4:

4.       I won’t miss looking for things. You name, it, she’s misplaced it: clothing, jewelry, her debit card, important paperwork.  When she leaves her things around the house, I bring them to her room, hoping she will find a secure spot for them, but I long ago gave up asking her to clean her room. It’s fine with me if her domain is a tragic kingdom, but it does mean she never knows where things are, and sometimes I get sucked into helping her look. Even when it costs her time, frustration, and money, she refuses to change her ways. She couldn’t find her driver’s license for more than two weeks and finally went to the DMV for another one; a week after her new license arrived, the old one turned up—in the car, a place she had searched multiple times.

5.       I won’t miss drama. I love knowing what’s going on in her life, but occasionally she gets overly involved in something, or she rehashes the same problems—some of her own making—over and over and over and I want to tell her to LET IT GO. (And just to be clear: I have no idea where she learned this; I NEVER hold onto issues past their expiration date…)

So I guess there is an upside to her moving out. Do I feel better now? Nah. I’m going to miss her—I’ll even miss all the things she does that I think I’m not going to miss. But it’s time. I hold onto this moment that is pregnant with both history and promise, but I let my daughter go.

As long as she takes her stuff with her.