When You Drive Away Without Them

For the Parents Dropping a Child Off At College This Season

Every August I start seeing the pictures. Dorm rooms coming together, beds dressed in brand new bedding, Target bags everywhere, parents carrying in boxes and wheeling in essentials, the pictures of the residence building, proud smiles while sometimes also trying not to cry.

This year, several friends are doing it right now. Some dropped their kids off this week. Others are packing and getting ready to make that drive over the next several days.

Seeing it brings me right back. I remember dropping my own daughter off at college. There was so much to be proud of. She was prepared, growing up, becoming independent, and beginning a life of her own. Although, knowing something is good doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. There is something so strange about helping your child create a little space somewhere else making sure they have everything they need, hugging them goodbye, and then getting into your car and driving away without them.

When a beautiful beginning also feels like an ending

Everyone celebrates new beginnings, and should. For a parent, there can also be an ending happening at exactly the same time. There is an ending to the years when everyone lived under one roof, knowing they'll probably be there when you walk past their bedroom, the ordinary dinners, the sounds of them coming through the door, the piles of their things that used to drive you crazy, the rides, the schedules, the conversations that happened because you happened to be in the same place at the same time. Even some of the things you complained about become things you'd give anything to have back on an ordinary Thursday.

There is a realization underneath all of it that can be difficult to put into words. That particular chapter of your family life has ended, and you can't go backward. I think that's what hurt me most. It wasn't that I didn't want my daughter to go experience and grow because I did. It wasn't that I wasn't excited for her because I was. It was realizing that something I had loved very deeply had finished.

Sometimes we need permission to grieve an ending even when the thing beginning is wonderful.

If you're feeling more than you expected

Maybe you're one of the moms packing the car this week, or maybe you've already made the drive home. You may be holding it together because your child is excited and you don't want your sadness to become something they have to carry. You may be surprised by your own emotions because you thought you'd be fine. It’s okay. You can be proud and also heartbroken, excited and worried, grateful, and sad simultaneously. You can know this is exactly what is supposed to happen and still wish that you could walk back into one of those earlier years. Those feelings don't cancel one another out. There doesn't have to be anything wrong with this transition for it to be hard.

I wish I could show you what comes next

This is the part I couldn't see then, when I was the mother driving away. Today, that daughter is a college graduate. She remained in the area where she went to college and created a life of her own there. She started her own business. She travels around the country and the world. She has adventures, opportunities and experiences that I could never have mapped out for her when I was packing up for that college room. I get to hear about them. She FaceTimes, calls, and comes home. She shares the stories, the pictures and all the  things that are happening along the way. I get to know this adult young woman who is still my daughter. There is something really beautiful about that. The relationship doesn't end when they leave home. It expands. There are parts of their lives that no longer belong to us in the same way, and that's how it's supposed to be. There are also new parts of our relationship with them that haven't even been created yet. That’s exciting.

When I drove away from college that first time, I couldn't see any of those chapters. I could only feel the one that had just closed. If that's where you are today, I wish I could lend you my view from this side of it. There is so much still ahead.

Be gentle with yourself in the quiet moments

When you get home you may notice their absence in little places like the kitchen, walking past their room, at the grocery store when you automatically reach to buy something they like, something happens and your instinct is to yell their name. Let yourself feel it.

You don't need to immediately fill every empty space or talk yourself out of being sad because "this is a good thing." You need to allow yourself to feel your way through it.

Maybe take a walk, sit outside with your coffee, pray, call a friend who understands, and cry if you need to.

Let the house be quiet for a little while. Your nervous system is adjusting too. For years, so much of your attention has been wrapped around raising, watching, helping, driving, planning, and being needed in so many ways. It takes time to learn the rhythm of the next season. At some point you may find that somewhere inside that new space, there may eventually be room to rediscover pieces of yourself too. That’s not because your job as their mother is finished.

It is not. It's just changing.

To the mom getting ready to drive away

Take the pictures, help with the bedding, run for the thing everyone somehow forgot to pick up and pack, give the advice they'll pretend they don't need, hug them and tell them you love them, and when it's finally time to get in the car, let it out and cry if you need to.

Then drive home knowing that you have not reached the end of your relationship with your child.

You've reached the beginning of a different one.

I know that doesn't necessarily make the drive any easier, but from a mom who has made that drive and now gets to see what came afterward, there is so much beautiful life waiting on the other side of that goodbye.

With love,

Bridget

Angel and Mrs. B