Last weekend we dropped our oldest daughter, Mary, off at college. She was in a new city, Chicago, with new people around her. She’d wanted to go somewhere on her own – where no one from her highschool would be. A fresh start. I remember doing the same when I went to school. I grew up in Oregon and chose a school in D.C., so I understood.
My brother and his family live in Chicago. We flew in on Wednesday evening. Drop off was on Friday. Staying with them was a bonus. It was also a distraction. The night before drop off we were more focused on catching up with them, enjoying dinner on the patio at Athena, a Greek restaurant. The knowledge that this was our last night with Mary pushed to the back of our minds.
The next morning was easy going. Drop off was at 1:30pm. I went for a run. Chad and Mary packed up her things. At about noon, we realized Mary hadn’t eaten breakfast. Despite her desire to get going, we refused to let drop-off be ruined by the hangries. So we found a vegetarian restaurant nearby and ordered lunch.
From then on, it was all about logistics. How long would it take to get there, where would she check-in, would they offer large bins to help get things from the car to their room, where would she get a room key, do they use room keys?
When we dropped our son, Payton, off at college two years earlier, we’d only been allowed to help him unload the car. We had 15-minutes to do it. Covid-19 was a concern, and they wanted to limit exposure.
After we unloaded Mary’s things we stayed to help her unpack. She’s like Chad. She wanted to settle in before doing anything else. Everything needed a place. So we helped unpack her clothes, set up her desk, hang pictures on the wall and organize everything else under her bed. Her brother Payton had come with us. The four of us squeezed into her tiny (“efficient”) room and got it done (Oh, and by the way, they don’t use room keys. She just taps her school ID on a pad on her door, like a hotel room. When I asked about a key at the front desk, the guy gave me a funny look. Apparently things have changed since I was in school).
We’d planned on leaving her that night. A few of her soccer teammates had also arrived and she’d planned to hang out with them. But, after she finished unpacking, no one was around (Fall athletes were all moving in before the rest of the students, so when they weren’t around, the dorms were empty). She texted her teammates and learned they were each having dinner with their families. Mary looked at us. “Of course you can have dinner with us!” We were pleased to have her just a little longer and neither of us wanted to leave her in the empty dorm by herself.
My sister-in-law had arranged a picnic at Millenium Park. We sat on the grass, eating bread, cheese, and salads and drinking wine, listening to music and looking at the skyline. I felt excited for Mary. What a cool place to be. So much going on. She’d have a lot to explore and, when needed, some family around to make her feel at home. It felt really good.
After dinner, we drove Mary back to her dorm. She said she was looking forward to some time alone, snuggled in her bed watching Netflix. She didn’t feel lonely or sad. She was ready to go. As we drove away, we felt accomplished. Our mission was complete. It was the next morning when the sadness started to settle in.
It was the same way when we dropped our son, Payton, off at the University of Portland two years earlier. The day after we left him at school, I felt sad. A piece of me had been left behind. The Frampton Clan was breaking up. I felt a sense of loss. Tears fell quietly throughout the day. At first I hid them from Chad, ducking into another room as they’d start. Giving myself a few minutes to cry, then I’d dry my eyes and rejoin him as if nothing had happened.
The morning after we left Mary was the same. Tears quietly fell. I hid myself again, not wanting to alarm my brother.
This time I told Chad as soon as it started. “It’s happening again. I’m sad. I’m okay, but today I’m going to be sad.”
“Me too,” he replied.
I took comfort in the familiarity of my feelings. I knew what this was. I knew the sadness would pass. And, perhaps most importantly, I knew The Frampton Clan was still together.
Saturday we got to see Mary one more time. She’d encouraged us to come by the campus in the afternoon to meet her roommate, who’d be moving in about 3pm. Our good friends Rene and Mark live in Evanston and joined us. They would be another safe haven for Mary should she need anything while at school. At 5pm we walked with Mary to the soccer field, where she was going to kick around with her teammates. We got to meet her coach. Mary gave us hugs and said, “It’s time for me to go.”
Yep, it was.
The Frampton Clan 