Twas the day before classes, and all through the dorm, excited and exhausted, this was the norm. Tomorrow begins their path to tomorrow. The things they will learn, will help them to grow.
There is a reason that I stay away from poetry. But I wanted to give it another shot, at least for this story. End result, tacky and sappy as usual.
Thy dynamics of being a non-custodial parent, I have been preparing for the day, my daughter, and next year my younger daughter, would go off to college. This is the path they have chosen, and of course with my blessing. Part of that path however, is the realization, that they are no longer “under your roof”, out of your eyesight, whatever parenting phrase you like.
The biggest part of this new direction, is the absence, doing without the constant presence or the ability to have uninhibited contact at any moment. Granted, technology such as cell phones and Facetime and Zoom have been a game changer to reaching out to a college student or the student to the parent. But, the lack of a physical presence at home, is definitely a struggle to deal with emotionally.
As I said, I have been my daughter’s non-custodial parent. We were separated by a decent distance, so visits were pretty much like “breaks” during college; a weekend here, a few weeks here, and then back. It is just for me, I had already been doing this through high school. And though the new level of education, and promotion to adulthood, the tradition was still the same this year; Summer visit, then back home, or now, to college.
I gave my daughter one final pep talk with no topics that would lead to guilt being added to one of the most exciting times of her life that she was about to begin. I urged caution and common sense when out and about. I told her I was excited to see the many new things and directions that she would take. Finally, I told her, among all the excitement, remember to take a breath in, and enjoy the moment to take in and save the memory of this time.
As I prepared to say goodbye, get that last pre-college hug, I told her I would cut back on the amount of time I was spending looking at old photos. I had new photos to take, albeit, will likely be much less. And the most important thing I would finally give to her as an adult, her space. My days of being able to see her grades and progress reports are gone. The days of me expecting her to be somewhere at a specific time so that I can call, are gone. I asked of her only one thing, that we at least have one phone call a week. I know her schedule may not align with mine, between her classes, and other activities on campus, so to make time, that we can catch up at least once a week. Of course, I told her she can reach out to me any time that she wants, though I think it will likely be kept to the once a week arrangement. I will likely keep sending my small daily text messages, just to say “hi” and that I am thinking of her.
I used to laugh at my Grandmother a long time ago, her resistance to change and technology. The struggle to get her to purchase a microwave, a dishwasher, and a VCR was real, actually took years of convincing. And even after she made those purchases, her reluctance to use them never ended, while the rest of us in the house took advantage of the conveniences those devices provided.
Progressive car insurance runs television commercials starring “Dr. Rick,” who helps adults to prevent becoming their parents, a knock on the jokes we used to make about our parents. One thing, as I mentioned above, that I made fun of my elders about, was “accepting change,” how rigid and firm they were, like a microwave saving time cooking, or a dishwasher allowing you to do something else while a machine washed the dishes, or not missing a favorite television show. “Change is a good thing,” we would constantly encourage them.
Well, it is my turn. I need to admit that. A current feature of newer cars, the rear view camera, is supposed to improve a facet of driving, maneuvering in reverse, giving you a view from the angle below your trunk level. In theory, this is a good thing. It allows you to see a small child or a low profile sports car that you otherwise may not see with simple head turns, or the peek in the rear view mirror.
But in my forty plus years of driving, I don’t like it. I think it actually increases the likelihood of an accident. And I don’t want to use it. Just like my grandmother had her reasons, I have mine. I have become my parents.
One of the first things we are taught as children, is crossing the street. We are taught to look left, since that would be the first car coming at us, then look right, and take a final look left again. This same less would be used in learning to drive and having to turn left in an intersection. So far, so good, an act taking less than two seconds.
In backing out of a driveway, or actually, backing out of a parking spot, before these cameras, I do not recall ever, EVER, having an issue. Again, the act of turning my torso and head, left and right, back and forth as I backed out of a parking spot, never caused any issue, nor an accident. But now, my current vehicle has a camera above the license plate, a distraction to me. So now along with my looking back and forth, in between looking left and right, my eyes must now stop and focus on this screen. And watch out if you can afford the cars that have the “lights” in your side mirrors that illuminate yellow or red because of the proximity of any cars next to you. And that is just the mechanics of your own car. What if you have pedestrians, who, in spite of seeing the “reverse” lights of your car lit, still will cross behind your car, immediately behind it, as you are backing up? Or, coming down the row of cars, is another car speeding for either a parking spot or to exit, sees your “reverse” lights, but instead of waiting, proceeds to zoom around your car, bulging from its parking space?
Seriously, what used to be a simple act of seconds, now must be performed at a snail’s pace. So, yes, with all the bells and whistles of technology, no, this has not made things easier. I do not like it. I have become my parents.
As a parent myself, there is a rite of passage, much like having to take your teen to a concert of a popular, albeit, annoying music group that could not be further from your taste in music, teenage driving. It appears that I have been spared both having never had to take either of my daughters to a Justin Bieber or One Direction concert, and neither, obtaining their driver’s license. The latter, getting the driver’s license is not something I am necessarily celebrating, but I am looking at the situation practically.
In full disclosure, I did obtain my driver’s license at age 16, like most of my friends. My birthday in the Winter months in the northeast of the United States, I learned to drive in the most treacherous conditions. And in forty years, I have never had an accident that I have been responsible for. With the exception of some traffic tickets, overall, I am a very good driver, and more than capable of teaching my daughters to drive safely.
There are two things that have been on my mind about my daughters driving, one is a matter of being practical with money, making common sense, while the other, is more of a “you gotta let ’em go and grow up” step in parenthood.
While teenagers see a “grown up” view to being able to drive and more freedom to go where ever and whenever they want, parents can see their teens as a convenience, a “gopher” to run to the store to “go for this, go for that,” or some other errand.
However, from the moment that your teen gets the permit to learn to drive, your insurance company is the first to notify you, to pay an additional premium. Okay, to be expected for sure. But what if your teen will not be driving as much as you think? As in my situation, with one in college, and another entering, does it really make sense to pay for a full year of car insurance, when they will not even be behind the wheel with the exception of school breaks? This is on top of the costs of a vehicle, gas, and maintenance. It makes sense really, to defer throwing thousands of dollars away, until the completion of college, especially if you are on a tight budget.
Of course, the other concern, and as I alluded to, pertaining to “letting them go,” is a fear that many parents have, waiting for their teenager to get home, whether it be a school dance, a movie, concert, or a trip to the ice cream shop. There is no rest until you hear that front door close, followed by your teenager’s bedroom door.
As a teenager, I know many of my friends that had car accidents early on in their experience. Some were quite serious. More than a few involved fatalities. Consumed with grief, I can only speak for myself, it did not matter what they were doing at the time of the crash. Someone was either lucky, struggling for life, or dead.
And I would like to think that both of my daughters will be good drivers, some day. I am fortunate that driving has not necessarily been a priority for them. And thanks to travel requirements of a “real ID,” state ID’s (official photo ID’s resembling a driver’s license), even as an adult, will now have an official ID without it being a driver’s license.
Which leads me back to my main argument, a fiscal decision to put off getting a driver’s license. Sure, if either of my daughters were going right into the work force after high school, that would be a different situation as transportation would become an issue. But going to college, and living on campus, there is no true need for a license. Insurance, gas, maintenance, and possibly a car payment, at a time when every penny counts towards. This “excuse” is not only convenient for me as a parent, but practical.
And that is how I look at it. I have made the adjustments necessary for my concerns. The dangers will still be there some day, as they are likely to get their licenses after college, perhaps even sooner. But it has bought more time. It is that same ability with logic, that I now “back in” to my parking spaces as opposed to pulling in, having to back out. The safest and smartest way to see things, are if they are right in front of you.
It keeps happening, and I cannot explain why. I know when it started, and quite possibly the event that triggered it. I just cannot explain why it has not stopped. Surely enough time has passed. Evidently not.
Yesterday I took my daughter to the airport, following a brief visit with me. She was returning home, to prepare for her upcoming freshman year of college. The car ride was unremarkable, the expected “pep talk” about how “I am just a phone call away,” and a variety of sage-like advice, occasionally followed by the anticipated eye-rolls and “I know Dad”. I put a lot of pressure on myself, to make sure that as teenager at the beginning of her adult years, that she was prepared for all the financial decisions, the ability to be wary around snakes and predators looking for suckers, all the while remaining focused on her purpose for college, all the while enjoying the many new experiences she will have. I needed to make sure all of my bases were covered.
As we walked into the airport, both of us pulled up our masks (we still wear them, our choice), and proceeded to the TSA area as she did not have to check any bags since this was a short trip. My daughter took one last mental check-list to make sure that she had everything, and pulled out her identification. And then came our hug good-bye.
We have done this many times over the years following her visits to me. Even during times of custody conflict, unsure when the next visit might be, or, depending on how bad the Covid19 pandemic would get, unsure if and when the next visit could take place, I always kept my composure. This farewell was different though.
Let me reflect back before I get to that difference. There had been a lengthy time difference due to a custody issue that I will not get into, but it prevented me, legally from seeing my daughters, for well over two years. In that time, both of my daughters had growth spurts, and from the last time that I had seen them, when they basically came up to my chest in height, now, were as tall as me. I talked to them every day on Facetime, but I had no concept of how they had grown, until they were standing right in front me. It was shocking to me, the physical evidence of “time” that I had missed seeing them in person. I could not help but break down.
So back to yesterday, it happened again as I said good-bye to my oldest daughter. She let go of her carry-on luggage, and we hugged. And then I heard her say, “I love you Dad.” I have never kept track of who says it first, I would say it was fairly even regardless, but this particular moment, right after she said it, I am sure she felt my grip get a little tighter.
I had been preparing for this moment for a while now, and honestly, have a bit of an advantage over her mother as far as “separation” goes, and the time that my daughter and mother will now be separated, just as my daughter and I have these last years. And even though I felt I was ready, as my hug got tighter, I tried to say back to my daughter, “I love you too.” Four simple words, should have taken less than two seconds to get out. Instead, the effort took more than five seconds for each word, because all of a sudden, I was choking back tears.
This was not the emotions I felt concluding each custody visit. Quite the contrary, I knew at that moment, I was sending my daughter on her continued path of greatness as an influencer (out of respect for her I am not stating her interest, but her studies and her career will have an impact on people, I can at least blab that). The next time that I will see her, hopefully, will be at Christmas break, if not sooner. But she will have completed her first semester, the toughest semester to get through in college because of all the personal adjustments she, like all kids going to college, will face.
I never used to be this sappy or mushy. I had always been known to keep a cool head, focused on the task at hand, in control, never let anyone see my reactions. The “when” and “what event” I was referring to, emergency open heart surgery in 2008 to save my life was when my emotional floodgates were opened. While it is common and normal to experience depression and anxiety (I did experience both in the few years after), I feel that my “drip drip drip” of weepiness is something different. I just have yet to figure it out. I am not saying it is a bad thing, albeit a bit embarrassing, and once again for my daughter.
But as my daughter walked through the TSA line, she had no doubt, that I love her, even if I had a hard time getting it out.
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