Turn Around

Where are you goin' my little one, little one?
Where are you goin' my baby my own?
Turn around and you're two
Turn around and you're four
Turn around and you're a young girl
Going out of the door

I can’t listen to this song by Malvina Reynolds these days without getting teary. I try, but I just can’t do it.

You see, we moved Amy into her dorm at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo yesterday. I thought there might be tearful good-byes, but no. For the most part, Amy is excited to be starting a new chapter and I am excited for her and confident that she will thrive.

We drove over the night before and spent the night in a Holiday Inn so we could get an early start. And I probably said 1,000 times on Tuesday that I was SO GLAD we got there early. So glad.

To WMU’s credit, they had everything well-organized for the influx of some 1000 freshmen for Fall Welcome. As we drove up to the dorm, a police officer at every intersection directed us. We pulled up to a spot in front of the dorm and unloaded Amy’s gear onto the lawn, then parked the two cars. Amy and I went inside to check in while Ken waited with the stuff and watched people. Very short lines at check-in (I’m SO glad …) The three of us (with the help of a strong WMU upperclassman for a heavy box) managed to get everything to the room in half an hour or so.

Amy took some time to get a little settled in. She made up her bed and put away most of her clothes, making room for her roommate to arrive. Since she wasn’t there yet, we headed out about 10:30 or 11 to pick up Amy’s textbooks and parking permit at the student union building.

As we walked out of the dorm, we noticed a long line of cars stringing out from the front of the dorm, down the hill and all along the main road into the campus. It looked like Detroit rush hour on I-75. (I’m SO glad …) Picked up the textbooks with no waiting (I’m SO glad …) and the parking permit with a very brief wait (I’m SO glad …)

Back to the dorm room. Still no roommate, and still a long line of cars. The university was offering us all a free lunch in the dorm cafeteria, so I thought why not. So I had the joy of eating mystery meat again. They called it a rib sandwich, but really it was mystery meat with a little barbecue sauce spread on top. The fruit and salad bars were excellent, though.

I suggested leaving after lunch, since there was really nothing more for Ken and me to do, but Amy said no, don’t leave just yet. We hung out in her room then until about 1:30, which is when I had to leave so I could make it back home in time for my hemo. By that time, Amy’s roommate and her parents had arrived. We all got to meet and it was happy handshakes all around.

On the drive back home, I wondered why I didn’t feel like crying. My emotions were more like elation and excitement as Amy starts this new adventure. I’m happy for her and confident that she’ll do well. Even when she called me after about an hour, looking for a cable to connect her laptop to her printer. (She needs me … but not too much.)

This experience is pretty common this time of year. It’s happening in the Aardvark family. Here’s dad’s take on the experience, and mom’s. And although his experiences are a little different (his young adult daughter just became engaged to be married) Internet Monk shares a thoughtful essay about our changing role as parents of young adult children. Something I really needed to hear.

I want to be that kind of “ideal fan” parent as Amy tries her wings on the Western campus. And most of the time I manage to do it. Some of it is established by Amy herself, how much help she wants/needs/asks for. Maybe because she’s an only child, or maybe because she’s a girl, I expect she’ll still call at odd times with some crisis or another — whether it’s a computer glitch or a relationship glitch.

And those are the things I treasure.

Comments

[Mercy]

Mayhem #1 had her first classes yesterday and she sounded a little more in control when she called. Today she has her two art classes. She also is going to a yearbook meeting to see about a work study job. The 100+ degree heat is giving her asthma trouble. Sometimes I have to remind myself not to remind her to do things. It's hard for Moms to remember to step back a little. Although, when she called Mr. Mayhem on Monday all panicked, he said that after he got off the phone with her, he wanted to jump in the car and go fix it for her. These guys aren't so tough.

[Eric Seymour]

Hey, both my parents, an uncle, and two aunts went to Western. I was born in and lived the first 4 years of my life in K'zoo.

Sorry to hear your recent health ordeal. I'll be praying for you.

(Eric from In The Agora)