Journeys
8-10-14
We’ve done this before; abandoning a child at an institute of learning and walking away. With both Katie and Zack, I remember thinking that college dorms had not changed much since I was there (a long, long time ago). You cram a couple kids into a small room with painted cement block walls. The entire floor shares a common bathroom. They eat at a school cafeteria a couple blocks away from their dorm. This week, its Emily’s turn.
She is so excited/terrified about this next phase of her life. She’s ready to explore the world outside her home nest. She’s been ready for a long time.
I keep having flashbacks to when we dropped her off at a daycare for the first time; took her to kindergarten round-up. Will she make friends? Will she like her teachers? Will she be challenged and thrive and grow.
I remember the feel of her little hand in mine, walking from our house to the school. At the cross walk we talk about looking both ways for cars when all she sees is the playground swarming with kids. She’d practically jumping out of her skin with excitement. I’m thinking about the possibility of scrapped knees and wondering if I have any band-aids on me.
This week I don’t want to let go of that little hand, but I’ve got to. The school has already anticipated that moment and scheduled appropriately. It’s in the brochure, “Time for parents to leave.” She will be so excited about her new roommate, the dorm floor pizza party, the freshman bonding party/orientation. She’ll be ready for us to go.
She’ll have to have to pry us loose from that hug, point to the car and say, “Look both ways now before you cross the street . . . go on now, you’ll be fine.”
Grace & Peace,
