The Big Goodbye

I am not good at letting go. I like my children to be at home. I am happiest with a full house. Yet, I am facing an empty nest. My younger child is about to leave for college.

When we took his older sister to college, just four years ago, the goodbye was quick and unceremonious. We had finished bringing all her things into her dorm room, set them up, and then she hopped out of the car, waved to us and it was over. There was no big meal or protracted hugs and kisses. It was like dropping her off at a friend’s house. My wife looked at me and asked, “Was that it? Was that the goodbye?” I have no doubt it will be similar with our son.

I have trouble envisioning it. I have difficulty thinking about the house being so quiet and empty. I had the great privilege of going to school with both my children. For the past eight years, we saw each other in the halls, walked to school or home together, and shared a world. Now, my son’s school world will be apart from mine. Both nests will be empty.

When I went to college, I called home in the evening every Sunday. If my parents wanted more contact, they would leave a message on my new-fangled phone answering machine and I would call back when it suited me. Now, we have text messages, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and the ubiquitous cell phones. Not only can we be in touch, we can be enmeshed.  

We didn’t smother each other when we lived together, so I doubt we will do so now that he is at college. I do have moments when I just want to see his face or hear his voice. That is one reason I take so many pictures. They help. My kids make fun of me that I take screen shots of our video chats. Those screen shots prevent me from being the dad who calls too much. They are mementos of the calls that help me to breathe and relax and know that it will be all right.

Frankly, I am choked up as I write this now. What a stupid idea! Let’s visit the big goodbye ahead of time so I can feel it twice! Super! Perhaps this can be rehearsal. Perhaps this will help me not be a total mess as we pull away from the dorm and campus and start the long drive home.

Just to make things interesting, my older child is coming home to join us on the goodbye journey. She will fly out immediately after we return from dropping off her brother. Great! Two goodbyes. While I am used to living apart from her, I still miss her all the time. She and I have trouble ending video chats. They go on and on. We run out of things to say, but neither of us can end the conversation. My son is not so sentimental. Now. My daughter’s move to college changed our relationship. My son’s departure will no doubt transform ours, too. The thing is, I liked our relationship before.

I hope that, someday, they live a little bit closer. I hope that, someday, it will take less than five or six hours to see them in person. But I know that the relationship we shared before college is gone. I am going to have to make my peace with the new situation and find a way for it to be much more than an empty nest.

So this separation is training for all of us. It is a chance for both of my kids to establish their independence far enough away from their folks that, even with the use of the electronic tethers, they make their own lives.

And it is a chance for their father to learn he can do the same.