Tomorrow came, like it or not! That meant that after a night filled with tossing and turning (well, at least by me), the Mister, our #2 son, and I picked up my #1 son from his UTSA dorm and headed straight for the nearby Walmart.
Us and thousands of other crazies—they were trying to take advantage of Texas’ annual tax-free weekend; we just wanted to buy essentials to make my #1 son’s stay in San Antonio easier (e.g., Lean Pockets and ice cream) and possibly (but not probably) cleaner (e.g., bathroom cleanser).
After putting the groceries and supplies away in his dorm room, we walked to campus (which takes about 10 minutes) to find his classes. All five are in only two buildings. One of those, the Humanities and Social Sciences structure, houses three of his classes.
Seems easy-peasy, right? Wrong! We felt like we were on a wild goose chase (or wild roadrunner, in this case) trying to find rooms that were on the same floor but nowhere near one another. I’m glad that he has an hour in between each class, because he might need it to figure out which to go!
Even though our on-campus time purportedly was meant for looking for classes and picking up a few books at the bookstore, it definitely had a more-important purpose: It allowed our family to be together one last time at the place where we hope our firstborn son will receive a good education and mature into an adult who can depend on himself to make the right decisions. We hope he finds the confidence he needs to function in the real world.
When we got back to #1’s dorm and prepared to say our goodbyes, my firstborn actually was smiling! I’m not sure if it was the small taste of independence or his looking forward to moving on with his life. But it did gladden my heart.
Still, I cried when I hugged him goodbye and told him how much I loved him. I was too choked up to say more than that. Where’s Winnie the Pooh when you need that silly, old bear to speak for you?
I did laugh when he called me within a minute of our parting to make sure I had given him something he needed. And we did some texting back and forth (mostly trying to solve internet problems) during the three-hour ride home.
But my #1 son has shown us that, at age 18, he’s ready to move on and see what life has in store for him. Knowing that he’s starting to gain some much-needed confidence, it’s easier for me to accept that he’s at the right place for his continued growth.
Oh, how I miss my firstborn son! But, oh, am I happy for him, too!! All of us are moving on.