End Chapter 2, Begin Chapter 3

This summer marks the end of one chapter of my life and the beginning of the next. My baby – my youngest, and my only girl – is leaving for college this summer. Yes, I’ve been through this before, as my son has been to and completed college already. But this is different. This is my youngest. My baby.

When my son left for college in Boston five years ago, my daughter and I embarked on a wonderful journey. She was 13. And she and I were going to be living together on our own for the first time. For a long time. I was worried, sure. She was just coming in to her teenage years, and I'd heard those were rough. I'd been a teenage girl once and I remember what I did and said to my mom, also a single parent. It could have gotten ugly, but it didn't. It got awesome.

Over the past 5 years, I have gotten to spend unrestricted one-on-one time with my daughter and watch her grow from a slightly awkward teenage girl into a beautifully poised and independent young woman. I’ve gotten to learn how she thinks. What she likes (and I mean REALLY likes, as opposed to just saying she does). What she doesn’t like. Who her friends are. Who her friends are NOT. What she thinks is funny. What she is passionate about, one way or the other. Oh, and about 6 new NSFW words that I would never have learned without her help!

Living with just my girl child has been a challenge, but also the best experience of my life to date. Although I did get to live with just my boy-child for almost 5 years, it was the first 5 years of his life, before his sister was born. Those are vastly different years from the ones I’ve just spent with my daughter.

She’s chosen to go to college in Northern Colorado. She’s going to be a special education teacher, and in CO, you can major in that. In PA, you can’t. Strike 1. In CO, her dad lives only about 2 hours from campus by car. Had she chosen the school we looked at in PA, I would be 6 hours away by car. Strike 2. And strike 3? In Pennsylvania, we average 87 clear days – meaning days of sunshine – a year. In Colorado? At least 136. There’s a place in CO (although I can’t remember where it is) that boasts 215 days of sunshine a year. For someone with Seasonal Affective Disorder, that’s a HUGE deal.

So what that means right now is that I’m trying to wrap my brain around the fact that she won’t be living with me on a full time basis anymore – probably forever. Once she graduates with her licensure and Praxis test done, she will be eligible to teach in Colorado. Not Pennsylvania. She has family with whom she can live out there, so truthfully, there’s no reason – except me – for her to return to PA full time, and she knows it. She also knows that I won’t play that card. This is her life, and she’s ready, already, to spread her wings. How bittersweet is that? I fear I’ve done my job far too well when it comes to her.

But they say when a door closes, a window opens. In my case, I guess this is true. Before my baby goes away to college, her older brother is moving back home from his apartment in the city. It may only be for the summer. It may be for a year. We’re not sure and that’s OK. He has a job, at least for the summer, teaching at the local summer arts camp. He wants to learn how to drive. He doesn’t want me to “(s)mother” him while he’s at home and I not only understand that, I respect it. We will co-exist as two adults sharing living space. I’m sure occasionally we'll eat together, either at home or out, and occasionally we will shop together, but it won’t be anything like living with my daughter. This will take some getting used to. I’m ready. I think. It’ll be good to spend time with him as an adult and get to know him, as I’ve gotten to know my daughter. But boys are different – not as open. That’s OK, I keep telling myself. I'll have to make sure that it really is.

Life is going to change, and in a huge way. Nothing will ever be the same, and as full of dread as I am about change, this is not necessarily a great thing for me. But here’s the thing. It’s an opportunity to go out and learn new things and make new friends, and not be worried that there’s someone at home waiting on dinner or a ride somewhere. But in all honesty, that’s what I know. That’s what I’m familiar and comfortable with. I'm about to step outside my comfort zone. I wish I could say “Bring it on!”, but I can’t. Not yet. But I will.

So let’s turn the page and start the next chapter. I can’t wait to see where the story goes!