Mary Angel

(9/2021) There are so many times in my life as a mom that I have thought this, both in jest and in all seriousness. I often tell my husband if he had told me how difficult the teenage years were going to be maybe I would have wanted so many kids. Then he teases me and asks what I thought would happen to those sweet little babies as the years passed. Then, we laugh and move on. Once again I am asking myself that question frequently.

You see, we moved our 20-year-old son (admitting he is 20 is hard enough) into his college dorm this past weekend. This was not my first child to go off to college and it will probably not be my last. I also know he has every intention of moving back home after college so that he can get a job, pay off his student loans, and save for a house. My point is that he, in theory, has not moved away for good. He also is going to a college that is close enough that he can come home on weekends or I could go and take him out to dinner once or twice in a semester. So why was it so difficult? Why didn’t anyone tell me it would be this painful and joyful all at the same time?

This all started about a month ago when it was official he was going to Messiah University. Most of his friends already knew where they were going, but my son had run into several hurdles on the way to transferring from community college to a four-year institution. In this case I would ask, "Why didn’t anyone tell me we should tour as many colleges as possible as early as possible?" I am sure my kids were probably warned of this in high school but neglected to share that info with me. Unfortunately for my second college bound child, or fortunately for my first, there were very few colleges that offered a good program in his major of choice, so he picked rather quickly. My current college student wants to be a high school history teacher and there are plenty of schools offering that major.

After he worked out all of hiccups and he was definitely transferring to Messiah, then we began the process of uploading the million and one documents they needed, filling out every digital form under the sun, and sending transcripts from his community college. Soon it was the last few days before move in and I decided to look at some college move-in check lists on-line. Suddenly I realized I hadn’t gotten him anything to move away for college. I am not sure if I was in denial or working too much or just waiting for him to ask. The bottom line was that I was unprepared to have my son move away from home. I quickly went to my boss and asked to take off a half day on Friday, explaining how unprepared I was to pack him up on Saturday. She graciously agreed, while she chuckled at my unpreparedness. Not only was I unprepared to move my son to college, but I was truly unprepared to let him go. Why hadn’t anyone told me about these magical check lists that, if followed, would make moving day so much easier?

On Thursday night before the move one of my daughters innocently let it slip that my son didn’t want me to go on move-in day. Heart broken, confused, and angry I stormed into his room and demanded to know where she got such a crazy idea. He was thoroughly ticked at his sister and insisted the reason he didn’t discuss it with me was because he had changed his mind. His reasoning was that he was moving into an all-male dorm and didn’t want "his mom" to be embarrassed at what she might see. He had also decided that college students who transfer do not have anyone move them in. After speaking to the lead pastor at our church (who is much closer to his age) he realized his irrational thoughts were being stirred by his nervousness and anxiousness about the new adventure he was embarking on. Why didn’t anyone tell me that going away to college can make you and your child a little crazy and a lot irrational?

Then suddenly it was move-in day. There was a lot of packing and the washing machine hadn’t stopped running for three straight days. As the three of us drove to Messiah there would be periodic interjections of wisdom to break the silence. We pointed out that he was close enough if he forgot anything terribly important we could bring it to him the next day. He noticed that he was also close enough to come home on weekends if he so chose. Luckily the drive was short enough that there wasn’t time for any crazy suggestions or awkward silence. Before we left we had told him we would be happy to take him (and his new roommate) out to dinner after we moved him in, but that would be entirely up to him. As we pulled up he said he would rather just hang out with his roommate and relax which we suspected and were fine with. Why didn’t anyone tell me that someday he wouldn’t need me anymore?

After the move was compete, everything was put away, and the bed was made we told him we were going to hit the road. He was sitting at his desk reading the next few days’ worth of orientation agenda. He paused and said, "Now that my nerves about moving have subsided, I really don’t want you to go. Would you mind having dinner with me and then going to the Candlelight Service?" (Insert tears from me as I type this). We were both shocked and happy to oblige. We decided to go to the cafeteria because of a time constraint to get to the service. It couldn’t have worked out better that we were all able to find the cafeteria and navigate how it worked for his first time there. He definitely would have figured it out on his own, but it was one small gesture that meant the world to him. After a good meal (and a great cup of coffee) we headed over to the Candlelight Service. Why didn’t anyone tell me how nerve racking this would be for everyone involved?

The Candlelight Service was an hour and a half and absolutely wonderful. At the end the announcer said he had one more tiny instruction for everyone. He gave us 5 minutes to say our goodbyes. He said it was okay to cry as long as we did it in the 5 minutes allotted. There were giggles and smiles and then the dam broke. As I was hugging my son, and keeping it together rather well I thought, I glanced over his shoulder and saw all of these moms crying. I am not sure if my husband realized, but he quickly hugged our son and took my hand and we began to walk away. In that moment my son looked at me and said, "Mom, would you like one more hug?" I held onto him a little bit longer that time, as if I was saying goodbye to my baby. Why didn’t anyone tell me how hard it would be? Why didn’t anyone tell me how proud I would be of him? Why didn’t anyone tell me how much I would cry? Why didn’t anyone tell me that writing an article about it would make me start crying all over again?

Read other articles by Mary Angel