College Move in Day

College move-in day, it was a mixture of emotions. We were so happy to drop her off because she worked so hard to get in and was so excited to start a new adventure. She had choices! Her final pick was UC Santa Barbara. Even the process in which she chose the school seemed to be so grown up. She applied to private colleges, UCs and CSUs alike, and at the end of her senior year, she had to make a choice. She had it narrowed down between one CSU and UCSB. She asked around to find people who graduated from each school, and she wrote or called them to interview them. She had her questions prepared and knew what she had hoped to hear. She asked questions about school spirit, dining commons, academics, and opportunities. She had to ask about everything she thought was important to her because she wanted to know she was going to have an enjoyable college experience. And that’s how she chose UCSB.

Like a well-oiled machine that was working full speed, UCSB began sending us everything we would need to know about their school. They sent us a checklist of what to bring and what wasn’t allowed in the dorm rooms. Once we had it in hand, we began to gather and pack. Hundreds of dollars later and about two huge trips to our favorite store Target, we somehow managed to check off every item and fit them, along with the six of us, into our minivan and drive away.

We ventured off onto the road and became surrounded by so many others traveling with an entire room derived from childhood memories, college hopes, and school supplies, all packed into the cabs of cars, filling every crevice. This was the first time our home would be without the vibrant daughter we had beside us for the last eighteen years.

The school was like a giant production, hundreds of helpers to direct for packing, unloading and setting up. They set the tone with a sense of urgency to hurry and empty the car so the next person could unload, while at the same time assuring with friendly smiles that everything was going to be just fine.

It was in the dorm that you could take your time and set up. Suggestions on how to manage in tiny spaces were given, but it was mostly just unpacking. Just like Christmas, packaging was unwrapped to unveil new gadgets, bedding, and supplies that we hoped would last the entire year.

Once everything had a place, command hooks were stuck, and all of the clothes were folded and put away, we left the dorm to let the next roommate begin the infamous move in ritual.

I remember we walked along the beach, picking up rocks, seashells, and ocean glass. Nobody talked much. There was a sense of peace, a lot of hope, and a little sadness. It was more like stalling around until we knew we had to go home minus one. How was I just expected to leave her here? What if she needed me? What if something happens?

As I canvased the campus, I could feel the serenity it might bring, but all my eyes could focus on were blind spots and shrubs that were too tall because someone could be lurking in them. I didn’t remember seeing so many worry spots when we attended orientation.

At orientation, several students shared that the hardest thing about move-in day was watching their parents and siblings drive away without them. They all said they wanted to run after the car. So I had a brilliant idea! We would be saying goodbye at the dorm so she could just go to her room and forget about us, and we would only worry about the road home. I did not worry about the road home; I just cried the whole way. Even when I thought I was out of tears, they just kept coming out. I kept telling myself to get it together. I mean, she wasn’t dead; she was only away at college. That’s what we wanted. It’s a good thing!

I kept praying for peace, but I couldn’t seem to grasp it. It wasn’t until a beautiful friend of mine from church prayed for the spirit of peace to fill me that I suddenly felt God’s embrace and was entirely at ease.

It was an adjustment at home still. When the restaurant host would ask how many, my automatic answer was six, and then the painful reminder that one little bird had left the nest because after the five of us would sit down at the table, we would have an empty seat.

How do you just release someone that you carried inside of you for forty weeks, and then cared for every day after that? Eighteen years is the magic number. We have eighteen years to pour a lifetime’s worth of lessons into them. And then just like that, they’re gone.

I had never experienced heartbreak like that. The feeling was wedged deep inside of my heart. It was not a surface wound. In my thoughts, I was reminded of Mary having to watch her only son being crucified for all of humanity. I was reminded of how God gave his only son for you and me. I was reminded of how blessed we are that we have been able to laugh together for the last eighteen years and would have more opportunities when she came home on breaks.

I thought about how college was a product of her hard work, and that was such a blessing in itself. I was reminded of the love we have for each other, and I was grateful. I like to think that we have something a little different from other families; the love we share within our family is no ordinary love. We share a joyful kind of love. It’s God’s love, and we are truly blessed.