It never really occurred to me that The ManBoy walking out of my house this morning have such an effect. We've talked about his Senior year in the abstract all summer. We've talked about scheduling college visits, AP summer assignments, college essay writing, awesome class schedule...but we never really acknowledged that this is his "Senior Year In High School". This was the basic conversation between me and my very wise husband this morning after he dropped The ManBoy off:
"How'd it go?"
"The usual. Focused on getting to class on time."
"You know the next time he has a first day, we won't be there." Followed by sniff, sniff...
"True. But the next time he has a first day, he won't need us there. Which means we did our job partially right."
"What do you mean partially right?"
"He's done the rest. I won't take credit for his hard work. We gave him tools, he's learned how to use them."
Indeed. Isn't that all we can hope as parents? Hope that the job that we've done facilitates their being able to move on, confidently, knowing who they are. That is way of healthy growth. So I can sniff, sniff if I want to, but I know that his "next first day" will be all the more meaningful because it will truly be his, on his own terms.
Good thing I've got a year to get ready for it.