When a child leaves

We just took our son Karl to St. Olaf College for his freshman year. It was hard for me, scary and exciting for him, and wounding for his mother.

I’ve been his stepfather for ten years. and he’s been woven into the fabric of my life. But my grief at his leaving is different from his mother’s. I think of this transition as a necessary loss of which I am proud. He got into a good school and will embark on a series of challenges that will help him find his life. “That’s the way growing up in our society works,” I think. His mother agrees, but she already acutely feels the loss of not having his dirty socks to pick up.

Part of what fascinates me about this dynamic is that she took the lead in helping him find the right school. Two years ago she bought copies of books like America’s Best Colleges and went to the seminars offered by Karl’s guidance counselors on college preparation. I went on a couple of the college tours, but she hauled him around the country for most of them and did a second round after he was accepted into his top schools. The evening he decided to go to St. Olaf, she eagerly took a picture of him wearing a new St. Olaf T-shirt. She made a long list of things he would need for college, accompanied him on countless trips to Target, shipped his new stuff to  school, and helped him prepare his dorm room after we arrived. All of it was a deeply satisfying, joyful experience of being his mom.