A soft landing at the end of the day can help buffer life’s hard knocks. [PHOTO PROVIDED BY BOLL & BRANCH]
All across America, frantic, frenzied parents are driving their borderline adult children and their stuff to their next station in life. Whether heading to college or to first apartments, the wheels of the bus are going ’round and ’round.
The highway is a mashup of U-Hauls and SUVs piled with lamps and laundry baskets, wishes and worries, pillows and parkas, hopes and heartaches, as caravans of parents head off to help kids fly the nest to build their own.
Last weekend, my youngest daughter, Marissa, 22, and I were part of that bittersweet brigade.
Having done the drill before, I’m familiar with the mixed emotions.
Raising kids to the point where they can launch independent lives means we parents have done our jobs. It also means our jobs are done. So while I pat myself on the back with one hand, I dab tears with the other.
To snap myself out of my soppy stupor, I get practical.
“So,” I ask Marissa, “what do you have for your new place besides your clothes?”
I’m trying to imagine what all she might need to furnish the one-bedroom condo that will be her home through graduate school.