“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of
letting go and holding on.” – Havelock Ellis
Two close
friends of mine moved kids into college dorm rooms this week and knowing their
poignant pride and inevitable sense of loss opened a flood gate of memories
from the day Mr. Clark and I moved our son, Dylan, into his dorm room at Mercer
University. That was 14 years ago and I haven’t thought of that sweat, tear and
emotion-filled day for a long time, but it all came back so vividly…What a long
and indeed, poignant day!
Dylan was
assigned to a third floor room in the oldest dorm on campus – a beautiful, architecturally-rich
structure without air conditioning. Mercer is in Macon, which means it was hot
as Hades on that mid-August move-in day. The stairs were narrow and steep and
there wasn’t a hint of breeze blowing through any of the windows which were all
open wide.
His new roommate,
Ryan, was moving in at the same time and after a few trips up and down those
stairs, it became clear both young men were outfitted with the exact same gear
– right down to the big, round, nearly industrial-sized fan still bearing a
Sam’s Club price tag.
It turned out
Ryan’s mom read the same book I did about how to outfit your kid for college
and (at least attempt to) let go emotionally. Empty Nest…Full Heart: The Journey from Home to College is by
Andrea Van Steenhouse who is a psychologist and mother. My dad heard about the
book on her radio talk show and knowing how hard letting go is for me, he sent me
a copy. I don’t know how Ryan’s mom found the book, but it was obvious we had
both read it carefully, made notes and taken it to heart.
The big fans
were just the ice-breaker we all needed. The boys got a good laugh out of each
mom’s super-sized interpretation of “fan,” as listed in the “if heat is a consideration” part of the “gear”
chapter.
“My mom’s a real
over-reactor,” Dylan told Ryan, who replied, “Mine is, too, in a major way.”
Both of us moms
felt better, knowing that our sons were rooming with another son who knew that
help - as well as too many phone calls, excessive supplies and a mother’s sixth
sense - were only about a hundred miles away. We agreed that if either boy
needed anything, we’d both be there and that softened the blow of the impending
“Good Bye,” at least a little bit.
We offered to
stay for pizza and the boys graciously declined, opting to have their first pizza
together without their sniffling moms in the room…Then it was time to say that,
“Good Bye.” With tears welling up in our eyes, both of us moms tried to be
brave and strong, and we both failed miserably, ending up sobbing in our sons’ arms,
wishing we could turn back time and make them little again. I haven’t had that
hard of a time driving away since I dropped my then-really-little boy off for the
first day of kindergarten. There were a lot of tears then, too…
Much later we
heard that after pizza, Ryan and Dylan popped all of the microwave popcorn both
moms had packed – enough for the whole semester - in their twin microwave
ovens, then made a fabulous game of blowing the popcorn back and forth, up and
down the long, wide, hot dorm hallway with their matching Sam’s Club fans. That
activity engaged the interest of the entire third floor of freshly dropped- off
Mercer men and in the process friendships began that evening that remain intact
today.
Dylan, Ryan and
several of their third floor dorm buddies spend their second year at Mercer in
Wales, opting to use the “recommended items to pack” list issued by the Mercer
Study Abroad Team, rather than what their mothers wanted them to take. The boys
finished their college days at U.G.A. in separate, yet equally over-equipped apartments,
outfitted by their still over-attentive mothers.
When my son
married, I turned his care over to his wife – a huge relief for all three of us
– and they seem to be living happily ever after.
I do recommend
Steenhouse’s book for any parent who is facing having to say that big “Good
Bye.” You can get it on Amazon and even though it’s a bit dated, the
information still applies. I try to get a copy for every over-attentive-trying-to-let-go
parent I know to read during that busy Senior year because dorm move- in time
will be here before they know it.
As for the huge
fan? It’s still in our attic. After all, someday we might have a grandchild who
ends up at Mercer and he or she is going to need a fan.
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