I'm reading David Sedaris tonight because Sedaris makes me laugh and I'm in need of a great laugh.I'm grateful and sad and excited and worried and a whole slew of 90 other emotions after leaving Nathan at school where in his dorm room he and his roommate are surrounded by more electronics than is really appropriate. It wasn't easy to be quiet while I remembered lugging my electric portable typewriter up flights of stairs as I watched him network his computer with stereo, TV and his roommate's desktop. I was a good mom, though, and I instead tried to organize his closet and was told, "Mom, don't touch my stuff."
This is what we spend 18 years getting them ready to do: to look us square in the eye and tell us "hands off". Standing there in that small room, trying to make some good use of myself and failing miserably I realized that my purpose now is to do just that. That's a realization that is both reassuring and sobering.
As the day wore on, I watched him break away from his dad and me as we walked around campus. This was a good sign, I thought, after pensive days where I he lapsed into silence as he finished cleaning his room, saying good-bye to high school friends and packing for the big move. Today I saw him walk alone out in front of us -- and not with us as he had been doing all day-- and I knew it was time.
So we walked him back to his dorm room, just moments after this picture was snapped. After the move-in, after the last minute dash to office supply and after the final stop to get his books for the semester he was ready to begin life on his own. I want to remember so many things from the day and there are so many to think about. I' ll savor them a few days, rolling them around in my heart awhile. Maybe some insight will emerge, maybe not. Maybe some days are best observed from a bit of a distance and letting someone else find meaning.
