Yesterday we moved my son into residence (dorms) at the university he’s attending. I handled it quite well, really – no crying, just a lot of sighing.
During the drive there, I kept thinking about walking him into his classroom on his first day of grade one.
It feels like such a short time ago. And now, here he is, on campus, focusing on getting a degree over the next four years.
It’s Frosh Week this week, so he’ll be pretty busy; he was a little worried about making friends, but when we talked last night, he was having fun and had already met quite a few people.
As for me, well, I am so glad we live in a cell phone age. NOT that I’ve been doing this, but it’s just comforting to know that I can text him during the day if I wanted to.
Well, okay, I haven’t been texting him mainly because my daughter has been stopping me each time I start tapping on those keys …
It sounds so trite, but where did the time go? I remember my darling little boy, nervous about the first day of school. And here he is now, a man, way taller than me, nervous, yes, about his first year of university, but excited, too, about starting this new phase of his life.
When it comes right down to it, that’s what I’m feeling too: nervous and excited for him.
And yes, a little bit sad. But it’s a good sad, if you know what I mean.