A week from tomorrow, we will be driving our little girl down to move into her dorm in Maryland. Yesterday was a tough day – it had hit me early in the day that my mini-me was separating from her family in preparation for this adventure. I was profoundly sad, and overly anxious, which made me feel worse. I was on the verge of tears all day. Finally, when the work day was done, I took my sad sack self, hung the bike on the rack, and went to the canal towpath for a ride.
I got the shot above at the end of the ride, as dusk was falling over Carnegie Lake. I could hear the crickets and cicadas and the odd bullfrog singing their evening song as the day wound to a close. The path is so different at the end of the day. The wild hibiscus and morning glory are folded up and closed, their joyous open faces no longer welcoming the warmth of the sun and the butterflies cruising for nectar. The foliage seems to be a deeper green as the light fades. Yesterday’s path was strewn with the aftereffects of the storm – branches, leaves, acorns and other seed pods, the detritus of a tropical storm that not everyone has recovered from just yet.
We spend all our children’s lives preparing them to leave the safety of home, to make their way in the world, knowing that the day will come when we have to trust we’ve taught them well and they are ready to fly on their own. We’re all having cold feet – she had a full blown anxiety attack the day she received her move-in date. I’m nauseous I’m not ready, she said. Her texts hid the enormity of what she was feeling. I texted her back. You’re so ready. You got this. It seemed to allay some of what she was feeling. Later, she confided that she not only felt sick but cried hard for a time as well. At this point, what’s a mom to do? She had her meltdown and managed it on her own. Independent of her mama. As I have been preparing her to do.
This pandemic, though, the havoc it has wrought on our collective mental health! There is no longer any physical human interaction – no hugging, no touching, no physical closeness – and actually going anywhere to see anyone is a near impossibility. We savor the moments when we happen upon people we like in unexpected places. And make plans for when the restrictions are eased. I’d love to hop in the car and drive somewhere far away for a few days. Is that even possible in this new scenario? There’s no such thing as a business trip, or even a vacation. No lingering in the college town or strolling around the campus to have a look at where your child will spend the next four or five years. I’m hopeful that will change by next fall. Spring is too much of a stretch, I think.
We are in the final stretch of summer, that hasn’t really felt like summer, other than the heat and humidity. There was really no full-on down time. I’m hopeful that early autumn allows for more movement and gatherings (safely, of course) and we are in a better place come the holiday season. The never-ending wrath of COVID, the economic downturn, the massive unemployment, people who are losing rent protection….. it is disheartening.
But today, we are persevering, making the best of it, and looking forward to new journeys and new chapters. And taking it one day at a time.
Oh Sheila- I so feel for you! Sending love from someone who’s been there. ❤️❤️❤️