Little Libby's off to college. We took her there on Friday. The move went like clockwork - it helps that Libby's three older sibs all attended the same school. Both my oldest daughter and my son knew exactly where we were going and the lay of the land when we got there. We met her roommate and her family, who seemed like nice people with an older son already esconced in an off-campus apartment.
At 3:45, as we were mostly finished unpacking, a Resident Advisor came to the door. She reminded the girls they had a meeting on the quad at 4:15. Then she looked at us. "Parents should probably start walking over to the Convocation if you're staying for it. It's quite a long way. You can meet up with your student at the barbecue after. If you're staying for it."
Libby wanted me to stay. I told her I was willing but that I really didn't think she needed me to stay. It was time for her to look forward, not back. Then her roommate's family said they were leaving. If we left, Libby and her roommate would start off on the very same footing.
Libby looked at me. "I think this is a good chance for you and your roommate to get to know each other," I said.
She looked at her big sister. "I have to get home to Jake and Grace," said Katie.
She looked at her big brother. "Lib," said Jamie. "It's Friday night."
Thirty one years of motherhood has taught me a lot of things...like when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em, and when to walk away. "It's a real good chance, honey," I whispered as I hugged her goodbye. "You'll do just fine."
The car felt emptier than it's felt in a long long time as I drove off. And I felt free...in a way I haven't in thirty-one years.