3.20.09
I’ve mentioned recently that I’ve started reading a book called You’re On Your Own (But I’m Here If You Need Me): Mentoring Your Child During the College Years) by Marjorie Savage (Fireside/Simon & Schuster). I’m reading it straight through from the beginning, even though it starts with the summer before the child leaves for college.
I’m doing that because I don’t want to miss anything (we don’t have all that long before Claire goes off to college, after all), plus I’m having kind of a good time (and patting myself on the back just a little) that we’ve already passed all of the milestones that it’s talking about so far. Now, mind you, we haven’t always navigated them perfectly or even very well — and sometimes I’ve probably just plain fallen down on the job — but for better or worse, they’re milestones that are now in our rear-view mirror.
One particular section that I just read sums up quite well what I’ve been thinking and blogging about lately: what kind of a new life do Alex and I — and Claire — want to build for ourselves now that life has shifted?
Bear with me on what will be kind of a long passage — taken straight from the book (pages 43–44) — but I think it’s very much worth pondering. Here goes…
“Every family develops new patterns when a child leaves home. With only one or two people gathering for dinner, it might seem unnecessary to set the dining room table and have a formal meal. If you’re running late, it may be easiest to allow the only child still at home to eat in front of the TV. [Holy cow! Has Marjorie Savage been hiding in my closet?!]
“Some of the changes will feel like a gift. You don’t have to share bathroom time with as many people. The phone interrupts meals less frequently. You get your car back, or at least you don’t lie awake every Friday night waiting to hear your daughter come in the front door. The brother or sister still living at home is receiving extra attention; morning schedules are less hectic; if your last child just left home, you and your partner can talk about sex any time, even at the dinner table.
“On the other hand, without your children as the center of your relationship, you may find yourself feeling lost and alone. For many seemingly stable families, a child’s college years coincide with marriage problems. You may discover that all you have talked about together for the past five years is your kids. The dissonance in the household caused by a child’s departure results in one parent’s seeking change, while the other clings to stability.
“It is common to ‘mourn’ for a while when a child leaves home, and it’s not entirely coincidental that parents’ midlife crises correspond to their children’s college years. You might even feel a touch of envy for what your child is experiencing. As you begin to see your responsibilities to your child more in terms of financial obligations, you might begin evaluating your beliefs and values, and perhaps you will decide it’s time to do something for yourself. Countless parents look at the school their student is attending and say, ‘I wish I could go to college. Someone would fix my meals; I could take any classes I want; I would have no responsibility; and I could have intellectual conversations every day. Why do we waste all this on kids?’
“You’re stuck with your responsibilities, but you can still expand your mind. This is the best time in your life to take a class at a local college, devote time to a hobby, concentrate on your career, or pamper your partner. As your new life develops, you need to look for ways to adapt to and create new routines. Depending on your outlook, all the changes in your life might feel a bit daring and exciting or somewhat depressing.”
Ouch! But it’s good food for thought.