Over the course of the last few weeks, over ten million college students are being dropped off on campuses across the country. Some for the first time, others for the last.
I fall into the former category.
It was a day marked on the calendar for months. One I anticipated with great sadness. Just booking the hotel for the drop-off weekend brought a few tears to my eyes. I could only imagine that the actual moment of saying goodbye would be a watershed and waterfall moment.
Yet when the “See You Later” time – as they call it – came – it was anything but. The morning move went smoothly, clothes unpacked, furniture assembled, posters hung on the wall. No stress or drama as my wife, daughter and I worked together to make her dorm room feel like home. When we said our goodbyes, it was predictably brief. A warm hug, a few words (“I’m proud of you, have fun”) and an exchange of “I love you’s” – she walked to her dorm and my wife and I to our car. I shed a tear or two as I flashed a knowing glance with my daughter and smiled.
The next day was orientation for her and for us. William & Mary has a reputation for creating a welcoming environment and it appears to be well-earned. Our family orientation made me feel like she would be in good hands. The director of Health and Wellness told us our children are going to get a whole lot of “mattering” – referring to the work of Jennifer Beheny Wallace. The director of student support services said “Don’t worry, I’ll look after your babies.” A large meeting in the basketball arena featured the University President, the Mayor of Williamsburg and others – all echoing the school’s guiding principal, “All Who Come Here, Belong Here.” At the end, they surprised us by bringing in all our children who sat up in the bleachers and cheered and waved at us.
Upperclassman lined the roads flashing welcome signs, dancing and singing. A Q&A session with students included all of them saying that the best thing about this school was its people – finding different – but equally warm words to describe them – “supportive,” “caring,” “loving.” Just another example of why they were named one of the friendliest schools recently by the Princeton Review.
The environment, the people, all of the opportunities in front of her – left me feeling so excited and hopeful for my daughter. This drop-off felt so right for her.
At the same time, there are three definitions for drop-off. One is the literal experience I just described – “taking a person or an object to a place and leaving them there.” The others “to decrease or decline” and “a sudden steep drop” began to sink in as we pulled away in our car and really hit home, well when we finally arrived home two days later.
The dinner table with her chair empty. The bedroom in pristine condition. The waiting for a call or text from her. All stark reminders that I would have less of her. A decrease or decline in our time together, our late night chats, car rides, movies, singing together, bad dad jokes, asking for my help or opinion. All of it would be in decline for the next four years. The reality was also that this was a sudden and steep drop. Going from seeing a person you love every day to not seeing them for weeks or months at a time, is and will be tough. Having less of what you love always is.
Thinking of this – not being able to look at her empty chair at the dinner table – finally led me to the good cry I had been anticipating for months. I walked back into my bedroom and let it all out.
Later that night we received some more detailed texts and videos from her first few days. This morning we Facetimed. All felt a little more right in the world.
Drop-offs – whether it be pre-school, camp or college – are by design uneasy, but necessary milestones for kids and parents alike. In most cases, it represents more for them and less for you. They get connected to new and old friends, other caring adults; exposure to new environments, experiences, and knowledge; more freedom and independence You simply get less of them.
As hard as it may be – for their growth and as a reflection of your love – that seems like a trade-off you have to make every single time.
This Week’s Recommendation: Take a walk down memory lane and break out some pictures of when your kids (or even you) were young. It will bring a wistful smile to your face. Consider listening to “You’re Going to Miss This” by Trace Adkins or “It Won’t Be Like this For Long” by Darius Rucker while you do it. Then grab some tissues.
Share this with someone experiencing a drop-off – from either side.