Bus Stops and Drop-offs
While driving to the office the other day, I couldn’t help but notice the number of school buses on the road. That’s when I remembered it was the first day of school for the children in our town.
I ended up directly behind one of the shiny yellow buses. Every hundred yards or so, the bus driver would slow down, flash his warning lights, and stop to pick up more kids standing on the street corner.
Up ahead on the sidewalk was a small group of children in their plaid uniforms—a style that hasn’t changed much since my Catholic school days. I noticed a young girl next to her mom. She was wearing a perfectly pressed uniform, with a backpack practically the size of her body, and rainbow glitter sneakers. She was adorable except for one thing: she was crying uncontrollably.
As the bus put its blinker on and pulled over to the right, the young girl turned to her mom, threw her arms around her, and sobbed.
I watched from my car as the moment unfolded. I knew the feeling, having been through it many years ago with my own son.
I also knew the mother had only a few seconds to make a big parenting decision: Does she put her crying child on the bus or not?
The other kids were excitedly moving up the bus stairs. I watched as the mom bent down and got face-to-face with the little girl. She gave her a huge hug, lovingly spun her little body around, and nudged her toward the bus.
The little girl wiped her tears, climbed the stairs still crying, and disappeared from my view.
I watched as Mom continued to wave enthusiastically and give her daughter the two-thumbs-up signal. She stood there until the bus drove away, gave one last big wave, turned around, and let herself burst into tears.
Letting go is so hard.
As parents, we know it’s the right thing to do. But letting go is never easy. We must trust that we’ve done years’ worth of work to prepare our children for these big life transitions. We give them a hug and attempt to send them confidently on their way—even if it sometimes means they are accompanied by tears.
And we all hope to have kids who are well-adjusted, and who will happily hop on the bus on that first day of school.
But sometimes that’s not what we get.
Those of you who’ve recently gone through this type of transition know exactly what I mean. September is the time of year when many of us have to practice letting go.
I’ve been following dozens of friends on social media who have been posting pictures of their children’s newly-decorated college dorm rooms. Was this you? Did you just drop your “baby” off at college? Did you imagine how you wanted the experience to go? You pictured you would drive onto campus, enthusiastically carry your son or daughter’s boxes up the stairs, set up their bedding, get their stuff organized, give them some final words of wisdom, and say a not-too-tearful goodbye, right?
But when the moment comes, sometimes it doesn’t go quite as planned.
I’ll never forget moving my son Charlie into his dorm his freshman year. We arrived shortly after his roommate, Evan, did. Between the two boys, there was so much stuff in that tiny space, I didn’t know how it was all going to come together. I started unpacking the box of bedding and pillows. Evan’s mom was trying to get her son’s suitcases unpacked but was struggling to fit all his belongings into the small college-issued dresser. She asked Evan if it was okay if she consolidated all his socks and underwear into one drawer. I could see she was getting emotional trying to make it all work. And I could also see her son was getting embarrassed by his mother’s questions.
“Hey Evan,” I asked, “Would you mind going out to our car with Charlie to grab his last two boxes?” The boys exited the room. Evan’s mom looked at me and started to cry.
I tried to assure her by reminding her (and myself), “It’s going to be okay.” We proceeded to have a special “mom moment,” talking about how strange it was to be dropping our boys off at school. We agreed we just had to believe they would adjust in the coming days and weeks.
A couple of minutes later, the boys reappeared with the last of Charlie’s things. All that was left was to make the beds. I started putting pillowcases on Charlie’s pillows.
That’s when Evan stated, “Okay, Mom. I’m good. You can go.”
Evan’s mom stood still, holding a flat sheet. He walked forward, gently took the sheet from her hands, and asked her to leave. No final hug, no emotional goodbye.
In that moment, I understood what Evan needed.
And my heart also broke for his mom as she waved and slowly walked away.
I helped the boys get their beds made and then it was clear Charlie was ready for me to leave as well. He said he’d walk me to the car.
First, I took a few final pictures of the dorm room. Their stuff was mostly organized. Charlie had packed far too many pairs of sneakers but refused to let me take any home. At least I could exit knowing there were clean sheets and comforters on both boys’ beds.
Before I left the room, I asked Evan for his mom’s cell phone—just in case we ever needed to communicate with one another.
As Charlie and I walked towards my car, he asked me to not cry. I promised him I wouldn’t, at least until he was out of sight. He was excited to be there. We hugged. I got into my car. He waved as he walked back toward his dorm. And surprisingly I held it together.
But I did take a minute to text Evan’s mother a picture of her son’s room, as well as a picture of the two boys on their first day of college. She thanked me, told me how much she appreciated my message, and said that the photos were just what she needed to know her son would be okay. I drove away from campus feeling brave and proud.
I continued feeling this way until I got home. I walked into my house, put my purse on the counter, and opened the fridge for a cold drink. That’s when I saw a container of leftover buffalo chicken wings—Charlie’s dinner from the night before—and realized that he would not be back anytime soon to eat his leftovers.
I burst into tears, nostalgically hugging the Styrofoam container of cold chicken wings.
Whether you are dropping off your kindergartener on his first day of school or bringing your daughter to the airport for her semester abroad, it’s never easy. No matter the circumstances, I’m not sure we are ever totally prepared for these gigantic moments of change and transition. And they all require some letting go.
So do just that.
Have faith that each of these milestones helps us all to become more confident and braver. After the tears dry, we must trust that we— and they— will be just fine.
This Week’s Resources
Preparing For Life’s Transitions
Does your child have a transition coming up, like a school drop off or an emotional goodbye? If so, it might be helpful to have your sappy moment in advance of the actual day. Maybe plan a family dinner the night before. Take that time to share with your child how much you love them, how proud you are of their upcoming transition, and that you know they’re going to do great. This simple conversation might save you from having to give a tearful speech the following day. Your child might also appreciate this proactive gesture.
The Best Care Packages
Have a loved one who’s off to college, and want to send them a thoughtful care package? Who’s got the best care package ideas and products? The Today Show featured a recent story with all the resources you need! https://www.today.com/shop/best-college-care-packages-ideas-t260980
“Reining” It In— for $1,000,000
I am always fascinated to read about things I’ve never heard of before. That was true when a friend shared an article about The Run for a Million. Ever heard of this? Academy-Award nominee Taylor Sheridan, co-creator of YELLOWSTONE, wanted to design a venue to showcase the talent of both horse and rider in one of the most demanding equine sports in existence: Reining. And the winner receives $1,000,000 prize money. Read here to learn about this fascinating sport: https://www.trfam.com/about.html#/
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