I Know My Baby Will Be Gone.
Dylan is planning three trips to colleges: one trip to see if nearly-free college is where he wants to be, one trip to see if college-of-his-dreams is where he wants to be, and one trip to see if the college that accepted him – which was his favorite back in 8th grade – is still a place he wants to be.
I love traveling to the colleges with him. I love seeing the places, even though we’ve been to some of them three or four times. I love the car ride with Dylan, singing along to whatever music he’s selected for me. I love that quality time together, even though sometimes we’re incredibly tired. I love Dylan finally being able to drive.
I love seeing the college kids roaming around like they’re on their own little planet. I love the smiling faces, the welcoming, warm administration. I love wandering through the buildings just to see what’s going on in there.
This time, I will love letting Dylan roam free on campus with his overnight host. I will love staying in the hotel, waiting to hear how it went, texting him goodnight (and making sure everything’s okay). I will even love it if/when he doesn’t text me back.
Dylan has two months left in high school, and I am still loving the adventure, the excitement, of choosing where he’s going to spend his next four years.
But I am not allowing myself to go beyond that. Because if he actually goes – if he actually leaves the nest and flies free – I know he won’t ever really be home again. I know he will be gone, replaced by an adult version who only comes back for visits.
I know my baby will be gone. And I know that’s the goal – to have him leave successfully, to let him follow his dreams.
But Dylan has been my life – along with Shane – for so long, I simply can’t imagine any other life. Nor do I want to imagine another life.
So I am going to trot merrily along beside him, visiting the colleges, singing along to the music, waiting to hear how it went, spending that quality time. Because to do anything else would be unbearable.