I Am Likely To Fall Apart Completely.
When I dropped off Shane at camp, I hugged him tight before allowing him to say goodbye. As a teenager, he tightened and pushed away a little.
I kissed his head anyway, and told him I’d miss him.
“Geez,” Shane said, finally breaking free. “Is this how it’s going to be when you drop Dylan off at college?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I’ve had 18 years to prepare for that! I’m sure I’ll be much better then.”
Hm, I thought. I really have been preparing for that for 18 years. But I am not the least bit ready.
I often realize that all of my worrying is useless. I recognize – logically – that nothing I do can “prepare” me for something as dramatic as my baby leaving the nest. And I know perfectly well that there is nothing that’s going to make Dylan’s leaving any easier on me, except possibly knowing that he is going to a place that is completely perfect for him.
And he is. But as much as I know it’s the natural order of things, I still don’t want him to go.
Heck, I didn’t even want Shane to leave for five days to enjoy camp. When Shane left this year, it was a little tougher for two reasons: (1) He and I had just enjoyed a great trip together to Blobfest and its surrounding colleges; and (2) Shane was going to camp without Dylan for the first time.
Everything went fine, of course. But I was a bit lonely. Shane and I spend time actually talking, and there aren’t that many people who will spend time talking to me. Shane is deep and funny and interesting, in a way that I’ve only experienced with a handful of people in my lifetime.
Now that I think about it, when Shane leaves for college – prepared or not – I am likely to fall apart completely.
But for now, we are just planning for our upcoming vacation, chatting about some college stuff here and there, enjoying our summer, spending time with friends. We’re just going about our business like it’s any other day.
I am trying to live one day at a time. It is hard, but I am really trying. I truly believe it’s the only way to save my sanity.