The Kids Will Be All Right, But What About Us?

My younger son leaves for college on Saturday. This is something I’ve known was coming for a long time now but every time I think about it for more than a couple of minutes, I quickly put it out of my head, lest I dissolve into a puddle of tears. I know that I’m fortunate that he isn’t going too far away, only up to Westchester, and I know he is fortunate to be able to go. It’s just that I also know that our family dynamic will be changing. I went from setting the table for four and now some nights, with my older son living his own life, as he should, and my husband toiling away, it may just be me at the table.

I realized a while ago that my sons’ dreams are my dreams, too. What more could a parent want than to see their children get a good education, to build on their talents and passions, to have their hopes and dreams realized? It’s just that I have a hard time with change. To counter the bittersweet feelings, I’ve kept myself very busy. I have made the very long dorm list and ordered lots of things, including twin XL sheets, only to find out that his dorm is probably the only one in the country to have twin, not twin XL beds! I’ve stocked up on underwear from Marietta’s. I’ve marked the calendar with important dates, like when we will be visiting for Parents Weekend.

It seems like all those glowing graduation and prom pictures on Facebook have now been replaced with loading-up-the-car and setting-up-the-dorm-room pictures. Lately, when I’m at the grocery store and buying something with an expiration date, I often think “when this expires, Gabe will be gone.” And I find myself thinking back to watching the closing scene of Toy Story 3 (you know, when Andy is going off to college), upon which I just lost it and couldn’t leave the darkened theater until I composed myself. But through it all, I do have a super support system known as the P.S. 58 Moms!

Most of us met 14 years ago when our kids started all-day Pre-K at P.S. 58 in September 2001. That was a devastating time for our whole city and letting go of our little ones may have felt even harder because of what had happened. Some of us were neighborhood girls and had known each other from earlier days and some were transplanted Carroll Gardeners but we all soon discovered that, in addition to our kids making friends, we were also forming bonds. I remember my friend Sandra and I crying our eyes out on the last day of that Pre-K year because the beloved teacher Mrs. Cavicchio was retiring. Sandra and I have almost the same capacity for weeping! We repeated that act for our sons’ fifth grade graduation. But during the in-between years, we shared field trips, PTA meetings, fundraising events, writing celebrations, concerts, ballroom dancing performances, last day of school lunches, and countless afternoons in the school yard after dismissal. No matter if it was freezing, windy, drizzly, or hot as hell, if our kids still wanted to play, we moms and some very dedicated dads and grandparents, too, still hung out in the schoolyard. We would yell out “ten more minutes, five more minutes.” We stayed so late one threatening afternoon, that on the way home, a little tornado touched down on Smith Street!

Many of our kids went their separate ways for middle and high school but they still maintained their grammar school friendships. Gabe still hangs out with these old friends, usually for Friday night burritos. And back when they graduated from P.S. 58 in 2008, one industrious mom started a little club just for us: Moms Night Out, every first Friday of the month. Of course, it’s not something ever manage to do on a first Friday anymore, and certainly not every month for that matter. The people who show up vary, and sometimes, it’s for breakfast or lunch. But we still get together several times a year. So last week, a few of us met for breakfast and I tried hard not to talk about the elephant in the room, i.e, when was everyone going away? After all of our kids are safely ensconced in their new colleges, some local and some very far away, we will look to each other again, for company, for stories, and for moral support. We are, indeed, a sisterhood of mothers.

So lots of good luck to the P.S. 58 Class of 2008, and all the other neighborhood kids, as you begin college. We are so proud of all of you. And good luck to all of us moms, too! Now, pass me the tissues please…