A Good Place to Be

A Good Place to Be

My husband, Bob, and I sent our son, Casey, off to college last month. We spent weeks preparing ourselves for the big moment, talking to other parents and getting lots of good advice. I knew it was important not to fall apart, but when the time came, that’s exactly what I did. I stood in front of my son with a torrent of tears streaming down my face while he tried to cheer me up, all the while barely able to contain his excitement about the adventure ahead of him. After giving him one more hug, Bob and I headed out of the dorm where I promptly burst into tears again.

“What if he hits his head on the bunk bed above him when he wakes up?” I sobbed to my husband. “What if he never takes the vitamins I put in his desk drawer?”

Bob assured me that Casey would probably not hit his head on the upper bunk, at least not more than once, and that he would most likely not suffer from malnutrition with or without extra vitamin D.

Even so, it took a full week before I managed to calm down, a process greatly helped by a text from Casey letting me know that he was not only having a good time, but had yet to sustain a bunk bed related concussion. I began to breathe easier. I remembered some of my own goals, which I had put on hold while Casey was living at home. I felt a renewed sense of freedom, particularly about my writing. I called to tell Casey about it.

“You aren’t going to write another memoir about me, are you?” he asked. “A chronicle of my high school years this time?”

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “My next book is a novel, not a memoir, and now that you’re away at college you can write anything you want, too!”

No doubt he was thinking about how he’ll portray me in his own memoir someday.

Best wishes to proud parents everywhere,

Ellen

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