College-bound: A piece of my heart was left in Virginia
Alot of mothers expect to cry when they drop their son or daughter off at college for the first time. Don’t underestimate how hard it is on us dads too. We took our oldest son over the weekend. It went pretty much how I expected. It was a blur.
The move in went smoothly.
The university orchestrated it well. I drove into line on the brick walkway leading to the dorm.
Within 15 minutes, we were at the front door and student and staff volunteers swarmed our van.
They unloaded everything into bins and carts, and I drove off to make room for the next freshman family. By the time I parked and walked back to the dorm, perhaps 10 minutes, all of his belongings were stacked in his room and he had registered and gotten his student ID.
It took about three hours to unpack. He’s one of three freshmen in a room built for two, so space was even tighter than usual. But we made it work. Of course we brought more than was necessary, so I lugged paper towels, cleaning supplies and storage bins back to the van — several trips worth.
As we set up his room, I focused on the details, primarily how to hook up the television and Xbox and program them. Of course the cords I brought were too short, so a roommate’s father picked up longer ones on his Target run.
I did my best contortionist act to help my son make his bed atop the loft. We put his clothes away and he proudly hung a few photos on the wall above his desk that declared his allegiance to the Pittsburgh Penguins, Steelers and Pirates.
He’s attending college in Virginia, so he’s in enemy sports territory. That’s Capitals, Redskins and Nationals turf. So we’ll see how his mementos are
received. Hopefully they will start some good-natured ribbing.
It was dinnertime when we said our first goodbye. He went to eat with one of his roommates while we grabbed a bite and then picked up a few things for him at Target. We dropped them off a few hours later and said goodbye again. We will see him next on parents’ weekend.
He was in a good mood when we left. Our brief return visit had interrupted a gathering with some of his dorm mates. It was comforting to know he wouldn’t be alone that first night.
The fact that I wouldn’t be seeing much of him really didn’t sink in until we got back to our hotel room, and there on the counter was his half-eaten bag of spicy nacho Doritos. In the fridge was the last piece of his Reese’s Take 5 candy bar. That’s when it hit me.
The seven-hour drive home the next day wasn’t easy. At least I had plenty of beach traffic to keep me focused.
Our son is too far away to be coming home for weekends, so we won’t be seeing him except for the holiday breaks. I think that’s good for him. He’ll grow faster that way. I have no doubt he will thrive and learn to navigate any bumps along the road.
Thankfully, it’s easier to stay in touch than when my parents dropped me off at college in August 1989. I didn’t have a phone in my dorm room for the first few weeks and relied on a communal hall phone. There were no cell phones, email, text messaging, Skype or FaceTime.
The trick will be staying in touch without trampling on his new freedom and making him homesick. How often do we check in? I know he misses his dog. Do I send him a photo of the dog lounging in the yard or tearing apart his Frisbee? Would that comfort or sadden him?
I’ve already watched one Steelers game without him. My wife already has gone grocery shopping without his requests. It’s going to be an adjustment. We’ll figure it out.
Thankfully, there is a lot of support. Seasoned moms and dads are patiently answering questions and offering advice on a parents Facebook page. That made moving in easier and should smooth the transition, too. My parents didn’t have that resource.
It’s an exciting time for our son. And we’re excited for him. That doesn’t mean there won’t be some tears. Maybe even from us dads.