She used to write me crayon scribbled notes on scraps of paper when she was upset and send them down the stairs to me in a semi-folded up paper airplane type of fold. Now I get these self-reflective, mature explanations of how she feels through text messages. She used to make me play with the Loving Family dolls, and she would just sit, watch and listen. Now she’s probably the best listener I know, with a sympathetic non-judgmental word to give. My oldest is becoming a woman, a fantastic woman. She just left for college, and it’s extremely polarizing. I’m ridiculously excited for her, my daughter, my friend. Yet, it’s extremely melancholy at the same time as I watch an era come to a close as she is blossoming into adulthood and has left for school.
Beware of Archeologic Digs into the Past
There is no word available to say how it feels to have your child leave home and begin their own lives and adventures. Everything I feel has been said by someone already in some quippy and more meaningful way. I would simply say to any other mother who is in my position, as the years pass and you find yourself packing up boxes to help them venture out to leave, a tempting ritual, as described by Paul Tripp (www.paultripp.com/books), is to do an archeological dig into our pasts questioning ourselves and our decisions. This usually brings me very little joy. I look back with the knowledge of how things have turned out that I didn’t have at the time, and, because I’m human, I want to infuse the past with what I now know. Mix this emotional archaeological dig with my desire to be a good mother, and I found as we shopped for comforters, laundry baskets, and slipcovers for used dorm couches, I still seemed to interrogate myself with questions like:
- Have I given her enough real-life experiences?
- Have I explained enough to her about men and relationships?
- Did she see the sacrificial love I have with her father to give her a vision of what real love is?
- Did we have enough one on one time to truly know each other going into adulthood now?
- Did I listen enough so she feels heard and accepted here with me, so the home can be a soft place to return?
- Did I spend enough time on the main, core inner person things and not just the to-dos?
Some of those questions have a resounding yes to them, others are still out for deliberation. I’m quite certain there would be different answers to those questions depending on if you ask her or if you ask me.
Choose to Look Forward
So as I wrestle my own demons of motherhood and wonder if I have done enough, I will choose to look forward, embracing the imperfect person I am. The person who tried to do her best, knowing the gaps will be filled in by her faith, her own experiences, and other people in her life. I will look forward, and not behind, knowing all things will work together for her good, even my bad mom days, wrong decisions or deficits I have as her mother. 
As I remember the girl who used to walk laps around my kitchen island telling vivacious stories, I have a whole new set of she used to phrases ahead of me now, and I really do look forward to them. But, if you ask me how I’m doing with my daughter leaving for college, you can still catch me wiping my tears and missing her because she used to be here, and now she’s not.
