August 2021 – I bought three copies of “Release My Grip – Hope for a Parent’s Heart as Kids Leave the Nest and Learn to Fly.” Ever witty and practical, 15-year-old Evelyn insisted that I need to read the book, not give it as gifts! Touché
Our college drop-off weekend included lunch in Oklahoma City with Robbie’s Godmother, 92-year-old Aunt Corrine. She retired her stilettos last year and has slowed down, but she is still sharp and made us laugh with her stories. My brother Anthony and SIL Megan hosted us Friday night in Dallas with a celebratory meal at a delicious Mediterranean place and a breakfast feast before sendoff. Sunday we stopped in Oklahoma with Robbie’s Mom and John for bbq dinner on our way home. It was great!
Saturday I burst into the song “Deep In the Heart of Texas,” as we traveled the last stretch on a two-lane road to Texas A&M. Moving Olivia’s belongings to the second floor dorm at noon in the sunshine was a hot and sweaty endeavor, but it was exciting to help her new room take shape. I made a last-minute decision at to leave solo for Magnolia, Texas for my friend Sonya’s son Carson’s 4 pm Celebration of Life. He is six days younger than Olivia. His mother gave his Eulogy and inspired all with her inner strength, grace and beauty. She is a truly amazing woman of faith. It was an incredible blessing to pull her into an embrace after praying for Carson during his 474 day Rhabdomyosarcoma battle (FB Carson Confronts Cancer). I reflected on the pain I was experiencing as I prepared to leave Olivia at college in Texas and empathized with the magnitude of Sonya’s grief with an Earthly goodbye with her dear son. The funeral was a moving and beautiful tribute that honored Carson’s life and I felt gratitude that I was able to be present.
It is interesting the things that cause emotion to flood my body and instantly bring tears to my eyes. This morning it was an abandoned pair of Olivia’s old running shoes left by the back door. The morning we said our goodbye at college drop-off it happened at Mass two seconds into the first song as “Holy, Holy, Holy” filled the gorgeous St. Mary’s church at Texas A&M. The longer the service went on, the more joy I experienced as I contemplated that I was sitting in Olivia’s new church home, potentially near her new people. The church was alive. It was full. The music moved me, thus tears flowed freely. I leaned over to my daughter and whispered, “We need to pray for a horrible Communion song.” When my favorite hymn, “You Are Mine” began, I felt an, “Oh, NO!!” and glanced at Olivia. The week prior at our final family Mass in our home parish, the babies surrounding us flooded me with nostalgia over the speed of childhood. I totally lost control of myself and outright sobbed in line to receive the Eucharist behind my four children and all the way to the back of the church, embarrassingly exposed with puffy eyes and tears streaming down my red face. In College Station I prayed to God help me keep it together to avoid looking like a fool. He answered my prayer and allowed me to reflect peacefully on the good of this beautiful beginning for Olivia. I kept it together until I was seated after receiving Communion. Thank you, God. “Build My Life” allowed us to praise God with voices raised in song. It was simply wonderful and Mass left me in peace.
After breakfast Sunday we made a final trip up to Olivia’s room to say goodbye. Robbie and I expressed our love and excitement about this new chapter. I told her college is going to be amazing! Her dad urged her to remember why she’s there, work hard, maintain her integrity and have fun. I held her in a big hug with tears in my eyes and wished I could simply never let go.
Sadness can feel so crushing. Her dorm room door closed behind us. As we made our way down the long hallways to exit the building, something pent up and previously restrained let loose. I wept and was powerless to do so quietly. I haven’t cried that hard since I crawled onto Robbie’s lap outside Evelyn’s ER trauma room when we didn’t know if she would live or die after her accident. He held my hand tightly and we walked down the staircase, passing some poor soul forced to witness my heartbreak. My sunglasses gave me some welcome privacy once we were in the sunshine. We had a bit of a walk, and before getting into the van to drive 10 ½ hours home, my husband held me with my head to his chest as I cried hard. I felt wrecked. It was really, really hard. It didn’t matter that I tried to rationalize that this is the next right step for Olivia or that I will see my daughter at Thanksgiving or that my friend’s 18-year-old passed away, so I should get a grip. Releasing my child was something I anticipated would be difficult and unsettling. A wise friend suggested the anxiety leading up to the expected change is always the hardest. That part was hard and it was HARD! It was not fun at all. I liken the experience to preparing to give birth for the first time. We may talk to others about their experiences and listen to words of wisdom, we may imagine and anticipate the moment, but nothing truly prepares us for the reality of the moment. It must simply be lived. The only way out of it is to simply get through it. And you know what, then it was easier.
I am able to think positively about how Olivia starting college is all about her living her best life. It is about opening a big door to a bright future and wonderful opportunities and new adventures. The university and her roommate seem like wonderful fits. She is ready and eager, mature and capable! I am still her parent and will always be her parent. My heart hurts from missing her, intensely longing for her physical presence and touch, and I know the sadness will come in waves; but my baby bird will soar. She may even change the world. She is going to bring new friends into her life and we’ll have more people to love. God will continue to bless us. We need to trust that we’ll move through this season of letting go and maybe the best is still ahead…Hope On!