Other parents warned me what it might be like. I could have a teenager who was actually ready to leave home. Nope, I thought. I'll either make it so good that he won't want to leave (firstborn) or screw him up enough that he can't ever go (neglected second child). The reality is that I've prepared him so well for so long that he is capable of standing on his own two feet. The problem is that he has one foot in and one foot out before I'm quite ready to open the door and let him fly.
It's not easy to send my youngest out into the world. I feel both wistful about the past and excited (perhaps even a bit envious) about his future. Like his brother, he is off to college in a new city on his own. He has our continued love and support with the freedom to soar. It's a huge developmental milestone leaving home- for him and for me. It's a step that neither one of us wants to take all at once. It makes him anxious to spread his wings when the nest feels safe. Its emptiness lies ahead of me, deep and bittersweet.
In moving on, children give up almost everything they have ever known with limited understanding of what lies ahead. It's not a big surprise that they resort to adaptive, and sometimes difficult psychological defenses to ease such a stressful transition. Like many, my son seems intent on soiling the nest before he takes off.
When he isn't broadcasting his detachment ("It's none of your business"), he's holed up in his room. If he's not criticizing my every move, he's nowhere to be found. He has decamped- both physically and mentally. He acts like a tenant and I'm the meddling landlord. Time together is sometimes so unpleasant that while I used to dread his departure, I am now able to help him pack up his bags.
In my head, I know there is an important function to all this friction: it will make it easier for both of us to part company with someone we can't often stand to be around anymore. He feels confident in his ties to home and even more secure when clinging to his friends. It's not a personal rejection of me, I tell myself. It's just his way of staying preoccupied to avoid the hard feelings of leaving his family. He is distracting himself with a long goodbye to ease the pain of his departure. In my heart, I make peace with it, with him.
I find comfort in knowing that him leaving isn't the end of my parenting road. It simply marks the next phase of it. The one where I tell him that it might seem like we've already covered it but there are a few things I want to touch base about again. I promise him that I'll keep it short and only say it one more time before he goes. I tell him I love him and then I let him take wing, watch him glide out the door and find his way in the world.
PC: Fagan Studios, Rochester MN
To Joseph, on your HS graduation. I couldn't be more proud of who you are and what you have accomplished or more excited about where you are headed and what you can do. The nest will always be here. Fly and be free.
I love you, Mom.
