As a weekly columnist, I try to set some boundaries—like not writing about my son, daughter and husband (the rest of my family is fair game). But things change, and well, I need to unload. This summer I saw my beloved ‘boy’ (he’s like 26) get married, and now I’ve just taken my baby girl to college. I have come undone.
Oh, I have tried to act nonchalant, saying things like, “It is great! Finally, I can get her room cleaned,” “Now we don’t have to eat pasta every night.” and “No more eye rolls or slammed doors!” But on the inside; I keep singing “She’s Gone” by Hall & Oates. If you aren’t familiar with the lyrics, they go something like this: She’s gone. She’s gone. Oh why? Oh why? I better learn how to face it. Yes, it’s a song about a breakup, and for some reason, I feel like my daughter just dumped me.
You see, like many of you, I had a darn-near-perfect kid. She worried me enough so I knew she was testing her boundaries, but not so much that I was in fear 24/7. She was a total and complete slob, but by the end of the summer, she at least got the dirty dishes into the kitchen. She was snarky, but she still knew how to be polite and respectful (not necessarily to me).
I left my career when my daughter was 2. At times I thought it was the worst decision I ever made. Full-time motherhood isn’t as rewarding as it looks on TV, but it was the right decision for our family. I remember her bald little head when she went to pre-school and wondered if she would always need to wear chic hats. I loved our shopping trips with friends when her 5-year-old voice would say, “Yeah, that’s just not going to work on you.” I watched her struggle, succeed, struggle some more and succeed at the end.
And now, she has moved on to the next phase of her life, far enough away, there is no chance I can just drop by (strictly by coincidence). So while I usually write this column at my desk, chuckling at how funny I am, this one is being written on a laptop as I lie on her bed. That way I can look around at the half-eaten Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup under her desk and the thank-you notes she failed to mail for her graduation presents. And really, would it have killed her to clean her room just a little bit before she upended my world? So to continue quoting from the song, “I think I’ve got it, I got the strength to carry on.” All I need is to come in her room and look at the mess. Tess’s mess.
It’s been a rough time; for those of you who just sent your last child to college, I urge you to YouTube “She’s Gone” by Hall & Oates. It will make you cry, but I promise once you sing it 80 times, you will feel much better. Good luck to all those wonderful kids we raised. They’re gone, and let’s be honest, in our heart of hearts, we hope they come back only for visits.
[Patty loves to hear from readers, especially when she’s sad. Email her at phannum@townandstyle.com.]
