On Sunday, I posted the following to Facebook:
“It’s official. Just one hour ago I was laid off from the best day-in-day-out job I ever had – full time mothering. After almost 19 years of dedicated employment, I have entered into a long-term consulting position that comes with the fantastic title ‘Parent’.”
All true. We had just dropped our son off for his freshman year of college in eastern New Jersey with a killer view of Manhattan from his dorm. I was between crying jags after an orientation I can barely remember. No disrespect to the presenters, but the sound in my head while listening to them was like the adults in a Peanuts animated short film.
I was able to focus for a few minutes on the tiny screen and the minutia of the app. I knew I would not be photo-worthy that morning, so I had saved a photo from the day before when we were on the road. I hit “post” and started driving west.
It was time to go home.
I like to drive. I am at the most peace behind the wheel versus any other seat in the car. My husband calls me a control freak. Whatever. He hates to drive, so I see this as the perfect balance in a long marriage.
The seven-hour drive on Sunday was lovely. Western New Jersey and Pennsylvania are beautiful, and I didn’t miss much of the peaceful afternoon and evening. They soothed me deeply. We chose the turnpike for speed, because I knew a full-fledged emotional “come-apart” was being held in check by the lines painted on the Interstate. As I walked across the parking lot to the hotel in eastern Ohio we had chosen weeks before, my breathing changed and I felt a gasp coming from deep in my chest. In the dark, and within the encompassing sounds of the highway, my husband gently said, “You’re almost there.”
I don’t remember the process of checking in or being deeply thanked for my membership in the chain. Credit cards and politeness were presented and soon forgotten. It was time for privacy within my rich, full life.
Our son is thrilled with his choice. I am delighted for him. He saw no tears from me on Sunday, and I only remember his smiles and his command of his belongings in their new home. He, not we, set up his dorm. Upon arriving home, we found a card left by a friend, and he had written what I already knew to be true – our son is where he wants to be and is truly prepared by all that we have taught and shown him.
Eleven hours of driving on Monday was not the initial plan. We were going to take our time getting home, but the pull on my mind and body was too great, and I steered the car along I-70 until our exit on the Jackson Curve. 700+ miles virtually tear-free. My mind did wander, but, by keeping myself in the driver’s seat, I was accomplishing self-preservation by not wallowing in tears that would have come on the passenger side. That side of the car would have been a salt-water swimming pool had I perched there.
Years ago, I had three bracelets made in brass by a local artist. My son was very young when they were hand-pounded with quotes that I chose and hold quite dear. I wear them as a set throughout the year, but not every day. I did not have them on the trip. However, during my two days of driving home, I kept repeating one in my head – a mantra if you will:
“A long ride back, with stops along the way. To sort things out. Then forgive them. Then forget them. Then it’s time to move on.” – Patricia Raybon
Home is a different place. The dog is seriously puzzled. There are two rooms I did not enter the first day. The quiet is fantastic and scary.
But the freedom is something I am easily coming to terms with. As I dance through learning the limits of that freedom, I am letting the tears flow when they need to.
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Your mother loves you. Smooch
…and your daughter loves you.
– sloane
your friends loves you. smooch. i followed your trip and travelogue on FaceBook, as many who have watched you with your family as the great American family with adventures and antics – happy, sad and hilarious snippets of life. and then it got real. the first shot you posted with sunglasses and a very red nose trying to smile, holding back tears “because of that damned dog”, it was all so very real. and i can only speak for myself, but it touched straight into my heart. you are not only a fabulous friend, mother, wife, sister, daughter and independent business owner (and marketer) — you are someone who invites hundreds into your life; through FaceBook and this Blog. but i’m sure you don’t always post every argument (if you have them) with your husband. or every day when you just don’t feel like getting up or the deep personal demons and fears that exist in all of us. but with that one photo showed so much love and so much really ‘realness’ that it wasn’t just a post on the internet anymore. you allowed people to see your heart. your big, gorgeous, hurting, heart that had the beginnings of a rip in it. yes, your heart was breaking- we all saw it. it will heal and scar tissue is stronger than unsullied skin. but for the rest of the trip and probably a few more days, months that chunk in your heart is going to ache, as it heals. because you know he has got this. the reason he is so prepared and ready for this is because of you. you know it — and your family knows it– you like to say it takes a village, and you are right. but you were the one that got him ready to spread his wings. and maybe it just didn’t take as much as you would have like to have to push him out of his nest, but his wings are strong because of you. thank you for sharing all of your fun, foibles, fun travels and all of your rich, full life… making us a bit jealous…or inspired. but i’m truly grateful for you showing us your heart. i hear hot chocolate and limencello and even gin heals it very well. let’s apply some of that soon. xoxo-aaa
April:
Thank you for reading our blog and for taking time to comment.
Your concern for me is kind and your response to our trip has such warmth. We are all exactly where we are supposed to be.
That I know to be true.
– sloane
nice. nice. nice.
Rachelle:
To your three nices I add three thanks.
Thanks, thanks, thanks for reading our blog.
– sloane
You did everything right! You didn’t cry in front of your son! (I didn’t either last week when I left my oldest in Oklahoma!) Cheers to us! We will survive this transition and enjoy hearing about all the new and exciting things our boys are doing and learning in their new adventures! This is what we aimed for these past 18 + years. Raising independent, successful humans!
Tori:
Thank you for reading our blogs and for taking time to respond. It is indeed what we spent 18+ years working on …. successful and happy humans!
I wish you a terrific fall. Will it include a visit to OK?
– sloane
Sloane,
I hope to be as grace-filled as you were on your trip. Thank you for sharing your journey. I love the quotes on your bracelets.
Peace,
Robin
Robin:
I’m not really sure about the grace part but I will take your vision of it and run! You are already sainted to me because you have three amazing children. I will admit to being thankful on Sunday as I was driving to be “one and done”….
You are a good woman and I thank you for not only reading our blogs but taking time to send a note.
-sloane
You have an amazing gift with words S. Sloane Simmons! It is indeed a rich.full.life. and thank you for sharing yours with us!
LOVE that Raybon quote. xoxo
Kirk:
Thank you for the kind note and for reading my blog. It is a rich full life and I really wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m sorry if I made you tear up but goodness knows you and I seem to provide that for each other throughout the year.
– sloane