Updated: Dec. 20, 2015
Originally Published: May 21, 2015
Six months ago, I made a promise to myself as my eldest son began his final year of high school. I jotted down my thoughts and even shared them in a blog post, convinced that the experience would be less challenging with my younger child. Yet, here I am, half a year later, realizing how naive I was. My struggle with letting go has proven far more intense than I anticipated, especially during these frigid winter months in Minnesota.
As the cold winds howled outside, my heart was a flurry of emotions—fear, excitement, confusion, and a longing to hold on tighter. The whirlwind of college applications, ACTs, and the anticipation of acceptance letters kept my thoughts racing. I found myself wrestling with mixed feelings: he’s ready, yet not even close to being prepared. Can time just pause for a moment?
“Leave me alone, Mom.”
“Mom, when will you be home?”
These statements echoed in our home, a mix of agony and excitement. The emotional turmoil was palpable, not just for me but for my son as well. Thankfully, as winter faded and spring emerged, the heaviness in my heart began to lift. The days grew longer, warming both the earth and my spirit. As my son made his college choice and graduation approached, I still grappled with the warmth of pride and the chill of uncertainty.
The process of letting go is a complex tapestry of emotions that intertwine mother and child. I can sense my son’s awareness of this transition, especially in the depth of his bright green eyes when he thinks I’m not looking. Does he feel the same bittersweetness as I do? Is he savoring these final moments, or is he fully immersed in the present, cherishing the lasts of this chapter in his life? I’m truly trying to focus on the now, but my thoughts often drift to the future.
Soon, we will board a flight that takes us 2,000 miles away from him. I can already picture my husband and me returning home without our son, leaving him behind to start his new college life—one where I won’t be able to tuck him in at night or see his familiar figure bounding down the stairs each morning, followed by his younger siblings like little ducklings.
At the end of the day, the familiar “Hi Mom, I’m hungry” won’t greet me anymore. These moments, which I now cherish deeply, will soon be memories. I will learn about his new life through sporadic texts and calls, but I won’t have the privilege of seeing the unspoken emotions in his eyes. While I doubt he’ll mention missing me, I hope he recognizes that the miles between us will never diminish my love and support for him.
Spring embodies transformation and the bittersweet nature of letting go. It signifies the melting of fears and the blooming of new beginnings, just as the eaglet prepares for its first flight while the mother bird readies herself for the moment of release.
It’s almost that time for my son to soar, but not quite yet.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, Emma Thompson shares her emotional journey as she prepares to let go of her college-bound son. Through the lens of changing seasons, she navigates the complexities of pride, fear, and anticipation, ultimately embracing the bittersweet transition of motherhood.
Keyphrase: Letting Go of My College-Bound Son
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