My daughter Sera came home for a visit this week. Yes, it was a visit. She’s 20 now, and lives in Indianapolis while she goes to Purdue, majoring in mechanical engineering. She stayed in Indianapolis this summer, subletting from an intermational student while she does an internship at Glassboard. She had this week off, and is flying to California to spend a weekend there with friends.
It’s hard.
It’s hard to be a parent who did their job well. She’s independent, confident, competent, and brilliant. She loves us, but she doesn’t need us; not really. Yes, we pay for school, but that was always the plan. She pays for a lot of her living expenses, and her travel. This is her second trip to California this year. She never asks for anything.
It’s hard.
The energy in our house changes completely when she’s home. Her things are on the bathroom counter, a reminder that our family is complete under the same roof once more.
When she said goodbye a few minutes ago after packing up her car, I sat on the edge of my bed, holding back tears. It was the same way when we dropped her off at school two years ago in August. I don’t think it’s ever going to get easier. My wife and I rely on the saying, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Be happy it happened.” Every single day, we tell stories to each other about raising Sera. We send each other Facebook memories. Occasionally we peek in her bedroom.
It’s hard.
Her life is an absolute joy to witness, and thank goodness for instananeous communication. I love seeing projects she works on (the ones not covered by NDA, of course), and photos of the places she goes, and I just think to myself, this is how we raised her. We gave her the skills to live this life. We can’t be sad that she’s doing it right.
It’s hard.
It’s a few hours later now, and I just checked her progress on Life360. She’s almost back at her apartment. I don’t stalk her during normal life, but I watch her when she travels. I want to know that she arrives safely. In a few days, life will return to our new empty-nest normal, and we’ll start looking forward to seeing her just before school starts again. But for now…
It’s hard.
