As the final first day of childhood school approaches, I find myself reflecting on the journey that has brought us here. While “childhood” feels like a loose term considering the tall teenagers wandering the high school halls, it’s still an environment filled with structure, rules, and a watchful eye from authority figures. This is a far cry from the freedom of college that awaits. Am I truly ready for his senior year? The last school dance, final athletic events, the senior breakfast, awards ceremonies, and ultimately, that moment when he wears his cap and gown? Is he prepared for it all?
I have to admit, I think he is. He’s transitioned from the awkward phases of adolescence into a young man who speaks confidently in public, maintains his personal hygiene without reminders, and showcases an independence that surprises me. This summer, he will even embark on his first paid job. As the dramatic mood swings become less frequent, conversations have shifted from immature jokes to thoughtful discussions about whether our country is ready for female leadership. It’s clear the time has come for me to begin the gradual process of letting go, so that when he crosses that graduation stage in a year, I won’t dissolve into a puddle of tears.
Among the countless challenging stages of parenting—from teething to sleepless nights, toddler tantrums to teenage angst—none will compare to the monumental act of letting go. Just the thought sends shivers down my spine. Some days, I look at his deep voice and scruffy chin and still see the little boy who once pushed his trains along a track. Do I truly have to send him out into the vast, unpredictable world? Yes, I do. My own mother did the same when she left me at college at 17, back when cell phones and emails didn’t exist. I still recall the single payphone in my dorm at the end of the hall. How she managed to drive away after leaving me there is beyond my understanding, but she did it. Soon, I will too.
My generation of parents, along with those just a few years younger, have been steeped in the era of helicopter parenting. From the moment our children entered this world, we clung to them tightly. We were among the first to embrace attachment parenting, rocking our little ones in Baby Bjorns long before they became trendy. We advocated for extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and organic baby food, and watched as the first generation of infants became enthralled by Baby Einstein.
We were present for every milestone, walking our five-year-olds to their classrooms and waiting at the door to greet them at dismissal. We’ve attended every game, lesson, and recital without fail. Our children have been the most protected and guarded in history. Our parental mission has been to nurture, support, and be there at all times. But now, in just over a year, I’m expected to simply drop him off at the dorm steps and drive away? Deep breath. Yes, that’s precisely what I must do, and I need to do it with sincerity and grace.
Each spring, a mother dove has taken up residence on my porch, tirelessly tending to her nest. She and her mate take turns watching over their hatchlings, driven by instinct and unwavering strength. But eventually, she leaves them alone, first for short periods to gather food, then longer. The hatchlings peer over the edge of their nest, wondering if they are ready to take flight. They will, just as she knows they will.
When I check the nest days later and find it empty, I remind myself that they have flown into the world. That mother dove has let them go with love and faith. In a year, I hope to embody that same courage as I leave my little hatchling at the dorm. It will take small, meaningful moments of letting go throughout his senior year to build my confidence and faith. Pushing him out of the nest signifies that I have done enough to prepare him for independent flight, and that, indeed, is something to be proud of.
So, I will embrace this process earnestly, faithfully, and gracefully—as a mother dove would.
For more insights on parenting and the journey to letting go, check out our post on letting go gracefully. If you’re considering at-home insemination, Cryobaby is a reputable resource for syringe kits. For those looking for additional information on pregnancy and home insemination, this NHS resource is invaluable.
In summary, the transition from junior year to senior year marks a significant milestone in both parent and child’s life. It is a time of reflection, growth, and ultimately, the bittersweet act of letting go as our children prepare to spread their wings and take flight.
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