During a recent campus visit, we attended a presentation by an admissions officer who spoke about the rich tapestry of students at their institution. The diverse backgrounds and interests foster an environment where students inspire one another to achieve their best. Throughout this visit, I found myself encouraging (or perhaps pestering) my daughter to embrace the myriad of opportunities that college would provide her.
She is primarily focused on small liberal arts colleges, reminiscent of the one I attended. I often find myself extolling their virtues, only to be met with her bemused expression. “Mom, I’m already sold on liberal arts schools,” she replied with an eye roll.
I was excited for her to immerse herself in the college experience—sunny afternoons on the quad, reading beneath the trees, engaging in spirited discussions late at night, or enjoying folk music with friends. As we strolled around the campus, I couldn’t resist pointing out flyers for glee clubs and dance competitions, activities that I knew she’d relish but never had the time for in high school. I also highlighted political clubs that were far more progressive than those offered at her school back home.
“Yes, Mom. I see,” she said, gently pushing my hand away from yet another flyer as the tour guide continued.
While I care about her college experience, I recognize that it’s her journey, not mine. She is a proactive individual with admirable values, and I trust that she will seize valuable opportunities wherever she goes. However, I couldn’t shake off my own feelings of nostalgia, missing the multitude of choices I once had—being part of the audience for every flyer that clamored, “Choose me! Choose me!”
After the tour, we hurried home for my first rehearsal with a new choir. As we drove, our conversation flowed effortlessly, spurred by Broadway tunes, about her excitement for the school’s esteemed guest speakers, study abroad programs, and diverse student population. But as I entered the choir practice, I was met with a wave of culture shock—silver hair, sweater sets, and polyester slacks. I sighed internally, thinking, “Where are the youthful ideas, the idealism?” Oh wait, that’s her new life, not mine.
As we began to sing, casual chatter filled the air between phrases. The woman beside me taught music at a nearby Christian school, introducing a refreshing mix of ideas and expertise. I quickly realized that returning to choral singing after a long absence would require some adjustment. I hadn’t sung consistently since high school, and while the sound of voices surrounded me, the notes on the page seemed to take longer to register. My consistent attendance in school choir for eight years didn’t seem to help me now; the syncopated rhythms felt as perplexing as trigonometry.
An hour into practice, my eyes grew tired, straining to read the music clearly through my contacts. I leaned closer to my neighbor to catch her pitch. With each passing moment, my college days felt more distant. Back then, I maximized my course load—philosophy, English, French, musical theater, dance, history, and just enough math and science to graduate. I aspired to major in “Life,” seeking answers, and became a Jane-of-all-trades, spending years tutoring and helping fellow students navigate their challenges.
However, upon reflecting on my current life, I see that it doesn’t differ much from my college experience. As a freelance writer and editor, I engage with a diverse array of publications and clients, continuously learning. Occasionally, I teach writing, and I’ve had the joy of directing, choreographing, and acting in community theater. I’m also expanding my fitness instruction beyond yoga to include senior aerobics and Zumba. I remain dedicated to the pursuit of “Life,” and I always will be a Jane-of-all-trades. I even managed to secure a small solo in the choir performance by the season’s end. Perhaps college is about discovering what you love, while adulthood is about remembering to seek out those flyers—or creating your own.
In summary, it’s essential to recognize that while we may wish to relive our past experiences through our children, their journey is uniquely theirs. It is crucial to support their aspirations while also celebrating our own paths in life, understanding that the quest for fulfillment and joy continues at any age. For additional insights on home insemination, check out this post, and for authoritative information on success in this area, visit this source.