It was August 30, and I was a hot mess. I had been wildly careening toward this complete and utter breakdown for months as Mallory raced through all the senior moments. All the “lasts” from her senior year flew by in a blur and somehow we were now at the night before we moved her into the dorm at the University of Wisconsin.
I was sobbing—legitimately sobbing, red, splotchy face, big gasps for air in between sobs–on the bed in our hotel room. Ally attempted to make me feel better—patting my shoulder and saying it would be OK. But I was not convinced.
Oh, I knew Mallory would be fine at college, even one that is 883 miles from our house. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, she was excited and not nervous, she’s independent. *I* was not OK. I tried to numb this impending doom all last year. I threw myself into the planning and prep, we got a puppy, we decided to host an exchange student, I even agreed to serve on our HOA (which was really a poor decision), but nothing helped. I was still sobbing in the Hilton Garden Inn.
Fast forward 243 days later and I can’t believe I was such a wreck. What I didn’t realize is that watching her thrive would be the cure-all. There have been football games, basketball games, hockey games, lots of studying, figuring out how to get help from TAs in computer science, navigating buses and airports, FaceTime calls where she helped Ally and Casey with homework, developing a love for cheese curds, and learning the difference between a credit card and a debit card (!).
We are 8 days away from picking her up and starting the long 14-hour drive home, broken up with stops at six colleges for Casey to check out. What will I be like in August 2026 the night before Casey moves into college? As the Magic 8 Ball says, too early can’t say.
But one thing I can say for certain. This coming August, on the night before we move her into her sorority house for sophomore year, I will be sad, sure. I will miss her terribly, yes. But I will be content in knowing she is where she wants to be and then I will look closely around that same hotel lobby for the moms with red, splotchy faces and offer a few words of encouragement.
Peace. XO.
Jeez-O-Petes.com 