My youngest child packed up all of her things a couple weeks ago and moved back into her dorm room at college for another year of higher education. Last year, before she started her freshman year, the process of packing took four weeks and multiple trips to the store to buy school supplies, books, new clothes, food, printer ink, etc. etc. When I loaded everything into the back of my truck it stacked up above the height of the cab and I had to tie it all down with several heavy-duty cargo straps so it wouldn’t topple off into the roadway as we drove.
This year, it only took EM2 a few hours to cram everything she owned into an assortment of suitcases, plastic bins and boxes then load it all into the back of my wife’s car. My wife and I kept asking her if she had everything she needed and she repeatedly shrugged and told us, “I’m fine.”
I suppose that’s a good sign. It means that during her first year at school, she figured out what stuff she actually needed to get by and what was just junk and clutter. I am a bit concerned that most of the things she opted not to take with her this year were school supplies, but she’s an adult (sort of) and I just have to trust her.
Another big change from last year was the moving in process. In her freshman year, my wife and I helped EM2 lug all her crap to her dorm room, then sat around as she made her bed and arranged her stuff. We tried to leave a few times, but she kept insisting that she needed us to stay a little longer and help her organize the room. When everything was put away at last, we tried again to say goodbye, but EM2 asked us to take her out to dinner before leaving. She said she was hungry, and we were terrible parents if we didn’t feed her.
Guilt is a powerful motivator. So, we fed her.
After dinner, it still took about an hour before my daughter let us leave. I could tell she was already a little lonely and worried since she had never been away from home on her own before. My wife and I reassured her as best we could, then drove home feeling awful because we had left our baby behind to face the cold hard world all by herself.
This year, after helping her carry her belongings into her new dorm, EM2 shoved us outside and closed the door in our faces. I tried to say goodbye, but all I heard was a muffled “whatever,” from the other side of the closed door.
Again, I guess I should be happy. My daughter is becoming more confident and self-reliant. She doesn’t need her parents as much as she once did. If it wasn’t for the fact she still needs our money, EM2 would probably already have kicked us to the curb. She has her friends and a place to live. What does she need us for?
Becoming irrelevant in your child’s life is part of being a parent. It’s the natural way of things. I did it to my parents, and now EM2 is learning to exist without needing me and her mom. I don’t really like it, but the alternative is having a child that plans on living with you and letting you take care of them forever.
Like EM2’s older sister, who dropped out of college and moved back home with us.
But I don’t want to talk about that particular fiasco at the moment. We can pick at that scab another day.
In just one year’s time, EM2 has gone from being the helpless waif I abandoned at college with tears in her eyes and a note pinned to her shirt that said, “Somebody please take care of me,” to the independent, young lady that boldly slammed the door in my face.
I couldn’t be more proud of her, although I do admit to having a few concerns. If she has made this much progress in only twelve months, what will she be like a year from now? How will she treat her mother and father after another year of living on her own and making her own decisions?
I have this image in my mind of going to her apartment and knocking on the door. When she answers, she sprays me with pepper spray then pushes me down a flight of stairs. Afterward, she says, “Oh, sorry, dad. I didn’t recognize you.”
Okay, maybe that’s taking it a bit far. She isn’t going to forget what I look like in only a year. What is more likely to happen after she pepper sprays me and pushes me down the stairs is that she says, “Don’t forget my tuition payment is due next month.”
I will wave at her and try to say something back, but she will already have closed the door.
That’s my girl.
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