Roots and Wings
‘T’is the season for children everywhere to enroll in colleges and universities, boarding schools and “gap years.” While parents have contended for years that this is their goal, the actual leave- taking frequently is more complicated than we imagined when our children were 13 and we said we could hardly wait until they left…
There was never any doubt that our parents loved my two brother and me, though they were strict task masters. Some folks confuse the two: love and expectations. For Jack and Margaret Huyler, the notion of being their children’s “best friends” never crossed their minds, I am sure. We entered the realm of friendship when we were adults – and, still, they were our parents. My husband and I tried to do the same with our daughters, who are now graceful, responsible, confident adults. They are our equals in every way, and the bonds between us are very close. We remain their parents, a relationship that we share with no one else. Perhaps it was that bond that allowed me to give them the wings to fly when it was time to leave for (daughter #1) gap year then college and (daughter #2), boarding school then college.
It is never easy to say goodbye to our children. We worry about them in ways of which they shouldn’t be aware. One of the most impactful moments of my life was when my older brother left for college. John is three years older than I. He was born two months premature during World War II, when our father was serving in the US Army in China. When John arrived, Mom couldn’t be certain her son would survive or her husband would live to see him if he did. It was not surprising that the two of them formed a very special bond. Actually, Mom had special bonds with each of us. She never favored one over the other; we simply related differently, as one does with one’s offspring.
John matriculated at Princeton University in September of 1963. No one went with him. He boarded a plane in Jackson, Wyoming, while the rest of us gathered at the fence on the tarmac to wave him off. As far as I was aware, Mom and Dad were thrilled for him. The message I received at the same time, probably unspoken, was that it would be my turn next. At the top of the stairs, John turned for one last wave. Grinning broadly, for some reason I turned to look at Mom, who was waving and smiling in return – while tears rolled down her cheeks. John could not see them. She would not have wanted him to. Even at 15 I recognized she was giving him a gift by keeping her sorrow to herself.
Yes, it was hard to let go of Hillary and Allison. Were it not, that would have been a reflection of something significantly missing. They knew – they know – that I loved them then and love them now. Whatever fears I had on their behalf, I hope I was able to keep to myself. I wanted them to trust in their capabilities and future, not be dependent on us. As my parents did with my brothers and me, I believe that they left imbued with the confidence that they were capable, that their roots were strong and their wings unfolding.
Glass Full 