It was supposed to be perfect. The night before, I had rehearsed every word until the early hours of the morning. At 2:19 a.m., I envisioned the moment when we would drop off our oldest child at college.
I imagined standing before him, arms outstretched like a comforting embrace. I would gently tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and gaze into his trusting eyes. I would smile serenely, saying, “My wonderful child, we’re so proud of you, and we know you’ll thrive this year. We love you dearly!”
A meaningful hug would follow—a moment frozen in time. With his arms around me, I would whisper, “Goodbye, my son!” Then, I would turn with purpose, walking to our minivan on strong legs, chin held high like a determined leader.
But, Wednesday’s reality unfolded differently. Our son led us to the car, and I knew the moment had come. I aimed to offer him the calm reassurance of our love, but what came out was a barrage of practical advice:
“Use single-ply toilet paper; double-ply can clog! Get enough sleep; it’s crucial for your mood. Don’t forget to smile at people—it makes a difference! And please don’t put your cups down mouth-side on counters; germs are everywhere. Wash your hands often, because trust me, not everyone does.”
He tried to step away as my grip tightened around his neck.
Did my wisdom stop there? Absolutely not. I blurted out more life lessons like I was giving a lecture instead of a farewell.
“Never lend money. Always look over your shoulder when walking alone at night—especially with earbuds in! Eat protein to keep your spirits up. And please shower daily—it’s like magic! I can send you shirts if you need them. Good posture and a decent haircut can solve so many issues.”
Then, I found myself enveloped in his arms, just like when he was a baby clinging to me in his tiny bathtub.
I couldn’t hold back. My voice muffled against him as I continued, “Read the labels on your food. In your plastic bin are vitamins—take them! Change your toothbrush when the bristles look worn. Drink lots of water. Keep a hat and an umbrella in your backpack; Wisconsin weather is unpredictable. Move around every hour, and if you feel unwell, don’t hesitate to visit the health clinic!”
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, feeling the urgency of my mission. I declared, “Get Purell! Wet socks are a no-go. Make sure to see some greenery every day; scurvy is real!”
Despite my frantic words, the grand send-off I had imagined was slipping away. It was now or never for the final goodbye, so I squared my shoulders, ready to deliver my heartfelt message. But instead, what emerged was a voice cracking under the weight of emotion.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with tears. I lunged for my son, soaking his shirt with my silent sobs as I clung to him like a lifeline.
“Mom,” he asked, confusion evident in his voice. “Why are you crying?”
His simple question made my heart ache. I buried my face in his neck, wishing he could understand that I needed him to embrace all the advice I had flung at him with urgency. I can’t be there to monitor him anymore; he must take responsibility for his own well-being.
He has to ensure he gets home safely each night, without distractions.
This beautiful child, the one we cherish, is embarking on a journey that fills us with pride and joy. If only he could understand that beneath my scattered advice lies an ocean of love. If only there were a way to translate my frantic words into something clearer.
In the end, my message is simple: Your mama loves you more than words can express.