Just another step

As if this whole college empty nest shit isn't enough on my plate, my youngest upped the ante by throwing in a two hour drive with a car full of kids to hang out at a state park and tube down the river into the pot. I said no the first time she asked me weeks in advance. The kid is good. She knows how to work me. She put the idea into my head, let it simmer, returned to it time and again and threw in reminders of how she would be decision making all on her own at college. Then she let it simmer some more until I said I'd discuss it with her father which we both knew meant she was more than halfway to that tube on the river.

The husband is more lenient now that the kids are adults as if that number 18 is a magical cure all. Where he once refused to allow our first born to ride in a car with anyone other than her parents, now he is all Mr. Uber this and Mr. Sure-Drive-Miles-And-Tube-Down-A-Florida-Sure-To-Have-Alligators-In-It-River that. I think now I use the "I'll discuss it with your father" slogan just to have him talk me off the ledge. Granted, sometimes I hold my own and turn him my way, but deep down I know I have to release the grip on their arms and let them go.

Him: "You can't keep her inside forever and not let her get out and explore things."
Her: "I'm going to be at college next week and you won't even know what I'm doing or where I'm going."

This morning as I lay in bed and listened to her drive away I apologized to my mother as I often do because hey, I get it now. All those nights she sat up worrying. All those times she asked us to call when we arrived at destinations. Parenting, and the worrying angle of parenting, doesn't stop just because the Morris Bird III internal clock moves to that magical #18 and ADULT flashes on and off like a neon sign. I tried to think of a time she would have let me drive off like that, and immediately a summer trip I took with friends to Wyandotte Cave popped into my head.

I don't remember how old I was, but I was the driver so I was at least sixteen. I only remember two of the friends, Robin and Michelle, but I think there was a third person with us, and we spent the whole day on this trip driving, lunching, and caving. Of course, the most memorable part of the trip was that I left my purse behind at the restaurant in a gazebo overlooking Blue River where we had stopped to take pictures. We returned immediately, but it was gone. BAM. One of those first learning moments that punches you in the gut and sucks the happiness right out of you.

Focus on the whole trip, I told myself when that nugget crept into my mind. Focus on the fact that your mother, most likely wringing her hands as you drove away, let you drive away. And when you got to a payphone (those are phones that were on street corners, in shops, etc. where you put money into it and made phone calls) and called her sobbing about your stolen purse, she urged you to wipe your tears and continue on with your plan to explore the cave, despite her worry and her anger at your stupidity. She pushed you to keep on truckin', teaching you that when life throws you a curve ball you get up, dust yourself off, and keep moving.

So I kept myself busy the entire day reacting joyfully with heart emojis when the texts arrived keeping me abreast of her whereabouts. She came home messy, damp, and with a huge smile on her face after an awesome day tubing down the river. That wasn't the first thing out of her mouth, mind you. No, the first thing she told me upon entering the front door was how she "wrecked her shoulder worse than it has ever been before", but channeling my mother I made concerned faces and listened to the story and didn't react crazily. It all worked out in the end and I'm learning to keep putting one foot in front of the other in this next step of life.