Back to College

And he's off! Griffin returns to the University of Maine for his senior year this weekend. Flossie has been sleeping on his bed for two weeks, maybe aware that it won't be as cozy soon.  This is not his post-shave photo, as I haven't had the chance to ask permission to use it!

 In preparation for returning to college next week, our eldest shaved his beard and mustache last night. I imagined that without the beard, he’d look as young as his 21 years, and maybe even younger in my mind’s eye. But, the opposite happened, just as it does every time he has a haircut – we leapfrogged into the future, and there found a more manly version of our son.

It’s relentless, this growing up.

The first time I cried over it, Griffin was three days old. I sat packed with him into the back of my husband’s giant red truck, and wept as we pulled away from the hospital, wailing, “He’s already growing up!” 

As he grew, I was pleasantly surprised that Griffin’s steps toward independence didn’t provoke the same tears in either of us. I probably sniffled when he pulled his hand away from mine, walking into Kindergarten, and I know I wept a little at the usual milestones – birthdays, Christmases, when he learned to ride a bike. But mostly, I found that his readiness for each new phase was matched by my own readiness, and we navigated those transitions together.

Still, there’s a wistfulness settling in as he prepares for his departure on Saturday. It’s not clear if he’ll even need our help to move back to Orono – he could just drive away like it’s any other workday.

Sigh.

I’ll miss getting up early with him to fill water bottles and pack food for his tree-felling adventures in the forest. I’ll miss the sound of both kids yelling and playing video games together in the back of the house. I’ll miss the sound of his whistling and guitar, and our near-daily runs to Dunkin’.  

And when it comes to dinner, well, there’s nothing so balanced as a table set for four. Still, there are some compensating delights to a table set for three.

But nothing quite like the joy of an anticipated homecoming.