And Just Like That, She Has Launched...
There is an eerie quiet in the house today. Not just a lack of sound, but a lack of motion. Or a lack of commotion, more accurately. Sitting at breakfast, it’s like every room doubled in size overnight, only to be filled with useless Feng Shui and rock gardens that no one will rake.
Just waaaay too quiet.
Even the pets are spooked, but their whole “can’t understand words” thing gets in the way of me explaining the simple truth:
our oldest daughter, Sophie, has left for college.
Yes, Sophie has officially launched. We dropped her and her Mom off at the Vienna Airport at o-dark-thirty, with 200+ kilograms (400+ lbs) of packed bags that are apparently “only the essentials”, to head to New York City for her freshman year at the Pratt Institute. From the safest city in the world, to the Big Apple, one way ticket.
Of course she went to NYC.
OF COURSE SHE DID!!!
I think I sprouted twenty new grey hairs on the drive to the airport, and forty more before my first sip of coffee. We prepared her for life, but Big City Life…WOWZA. She is “all in” before seeing the flop.*
It’s not like I didn’t have 18+ years to prepare for this. Each word, each step she takes, every skill mastered is a slow march towards the day she spreads her wings and AMF’s** her way out of the nest. But now she’s base jumping into the craziest city in the world. I’m feeling like Sisyphus, finally getting that boulder to the top of the hill, only to realize gravity had big plans for that rock all along.
Parenthood is a truly Sisyphean task if there ever was one. Nearly two decades of pushing that rock - raising, guiding, nurturing - only to reach the summit and watch her roll away faster than Gabby Thomas in the Olympic 200m, and to a place you cannot follow. Give her a “trust push” instead of catching her in a trust fall, and hope that if she creates a mess or two along the way, she knows to keep on rolling.
And what now for us parents (and kid sister)? We stand there at the top of our lonely hill, with that weird no-finish-line-but-kinda-feel-a-sense of accomplishment, and a void so deep, even Nietzsche would’ve thought twice before staring into it.
But we are SO proud of her. So, so crazy proud of her. She’s confident, adventurous, curious, funny, resilient, willing to put her talent to work, a good friend and sister, and an empathetic world citizen. She is a HUGE life force. And perhaps that is why the silence is so powerful. Even in her absence, you can feel her impact.
So off you go, my love. We look forward to all of your successes, triumphs, heartbreaks, discouragements, insights, risks, laughs, tears, hugs, and endless stories. Enjoy NYC, and try not to murder anyone (at least in your first year). You will always have a place with us, no matter where “home” physically resides, and we will happily push the silence aside. The pets especially. ;-)
* A few terms from Texas Hold ‘Em Poker…”all in” means you have bet everything you have, and “before the flop” means you have done so before seeing all of your cards (ie, what fate has in store for you).
**AMF = “Adios Mother F*cker” for all you movie-starved readers. Also, one of the epic college drinks these days.
Successive generations find similar feelings but you have written well and thoughtfully about them. She charts her own course and, trying to aim and focus it as you may have done, only fate will justly claim the blame or credit. Relax! Enjoy another star as she joins our galaxy.
We too have passed that gate. Our two daughters are in college, entering senior and sophomore years respectively. But it is far more like the aid station at mile 80 than tape at a finish line. The race takes a unique shape in the quiet at night. Their challenges become more nebulous and start mirroring some you have either never answered or addressed for yourself. There will be times when you question how will this race turn out. A simple boo boo bandaid won’t suffice.
But then another dawn will break, a second (or third or forth) wind will hit and she (along with you) will hit a stride you didn’t know was there and she will soar beyond what you dreamed. At mile 90 the valleys and peaks will astound.
But trust me, though the roles change (and I suppose inevitably begin to reverse), you will still be dad, there will still be advice to give (and sometimes be unheard at first), and plenty of noise. Just more metaphorical in tenor.