Moving day for college — again. If parental heartache were a vintage, I’ve tasted it enough times to savor every nuance and name it blind. First came the teary Italian farewell — her junior year of high school, a leap across the Atlantic that marked my first real step into the empty nest. Then there was freshman year at Northeastern’s London campus: the ritual of unpacking her things, clinging to strong espresso for a sense of strength, reminding myself it was “just studying abroad.” And now, here we are, back stateside, settling her in at Northeastern University in Boston. Yet somehow, this time, pulling the cork on goodbye feels even tougher.
The Second Chapter of Northeastern
The school is the same, but her path is different — she’s not just starting college, she’s stepping, with long strides and new confidence, into her first co-op and the beginnings of her career. I see how her eyes shine with anticipation for all those experiential learning opportunities this global university loves to tout. But she’s more than a student now; she’s a soon-to-be colleague, a professional in training, suddenly standing at the edge of true independence and becoming an adult.
Why Is This Drop-Off Harder?
We are back in Dallas, and she starts school this week. We are so excited for her, but this time it’s a little harder. Is it knowing her time at home with us is lessening? Is it that she’s exchanged syllabi for onboarding packets, and lectures for office meetings? This time, I’m not just sending off a kid to decorate a dorm and figure out laundry — I’m watching her sculpt her future.
I’m proud, of course. But as we hugged her goodbye, I feel the acute sting of transition. Somehow, this separation isn’t as buffered by the promise that she’ll “be back for breaks.” She’s charting her own territory—navigating underground lines instead of school hallways, building a resume instead of just grabbing credits.
Wine and Wisdom
So, I do what I do best and pour a glass and toast the next phase, remembering that growth, like wine, is complex — a blend of sweetness and acidity, sunshine and storm, old vines and new shoots.
She’s ready. I am, too, in that way parents are watchful, wistful, and always learning how to let go a little more gracefully.
Parenthood is filled with rituals of release — each goodbye stretching heartstrings in new ways. Navigating my child’s journey from Italy to London, and now Boston, I’ve learned that saying goodbye doesn’t get easier; it simply changes. But as I watch her grow, step into independence, and chase her dreams, I realize these bittersweet moments are to be savored.
