I’ve been thinking a lot lately about kids going off to college. It’s that time of year when they’re either moving back onto campus, or moving into dorm rooms for the first time. Against the strong advice of the leadership at the school I used to work for, I was friends with several of the students’ parents on Facebook. Only those parents who, to use a trendy phrase, “passed the vibe check”. These are parents of students I have taught over the years and as time continues to fly by, many of these students are now off to college, or, to age myself even more, they are out of college and well into living their adult lives. Most recently, one parent and I engaged in a serious back and forth conversation in Messenger about the impending drop off of her son at a college three hours away. She was distraught over it because even though he’s the second oldest out of four kids, he is somehow her baby and it was really upsetting her. She needed me to talk her off the ledge, which I did to the best of my ability considering I myself am not a mother and have no experience with dropping kids off at college. I was thinking of her when I came across something, whether on the radio or news or just some random something online, that said kids shouldn’t come home from college after the start of the school year for at least six weeks after they leave. Apparently that’s the time that is needed to adequately heal any separation anxiety. That got me wondering about this weekend. Here in the United States it’s a three day weekend because tomorrow is Labor Day. Are those college kids who got dropped off only three or four weeks ago coming home for the first time this weekend?
That all led me to remember the first time I came home from college for the weekend. I had only been gone for two weeks, which wasn’t even the longest time I had been away. There was a summer camp that I attended before my 8th grade year that was two weeks long. But when I came home that first time after leaving for school, the hug I received from my mother was something I’ll never forget. There was no big production. I just walked into the house and she and I met in the living room. She stood up with a huge smile on her face, which I can still vividly see, and she hugged me so tightly and for so long that it was almost like I had been gone for years. My school wasn’t even all that far away. Only a couple of counties and less than a two hour drive. But I suppose there was something more to the fact that she had mentally let me go when she and my dad (and husband, who was my boyfriend back then), dropped me off at school. She had helped me pack, bought me all the Rubbermaid organization bins, bought me a new bedspread because the baby blue one with the puppy on it was too childish (in my mind) to adorn my dorm room bed…she did all the things to help me move out and on. And here I was, back again to visit. I’m sure if I asked her she would have some other sort of analysis for what she was thinking and feeling at that moment, but whatever joy she was feeling at seeing me come through the front door again, was transferred to me in the way she hugged me for dear life right then. I’ll never forget it.
May all the college kids who come home for the first time, whether this weekend or some other weekend in the future, may they all experience that welcome home hug from their mother and/or father.
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