He was my partner in crime for TV marathons and movie nights, always ready with popcorn while I supplied the chocolate. My firstborn had a knack for making me laugh until I cried. While my husband and daughter are wonderful company, there is a unique connection between us—our shared love for cheesy disaster flicks and sitcoms featuring overbearing mothers, characters who somehow make me look positively stellar.
After years of enduring Barney, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Hey Arnold!, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer—shows I could never quite get into—we finally found common ground. When he wasn’t busy with work or hanging out with friends, I cherished being his fallback plan. But that arrangement was fleeting. He returned home post-college just long enough to save up for his own place, as one would expect. I recognized the moment had come.
We explored several apartments and found the perfect one on our first outing. A week later, the lease was signed, and the reality of him leaving home settled in fast. We accompanied him on the obligatory trips to Ikea and Bed, Bath & Beyond, helping him furnish his new space in a minimalist style, loading up the SUV just as we had done during his college years. I was thrilled for his new adventure and tried to share in his excitement, yet a tinge of sadness lingered.
I had navigated goodbyes before, though not always with grace. The first separation at nursery school had been a breeze, but the farewell at sleepaway camp left me teary-eyed. I’ll never forget how he and his sister waved goodbye, looking like two lost little souls while I fought back tears until we hit the highway, oblivious to the fact they were back at camp enjoying themselves.
Then there was his summer program in Ireland. I couldn’t accompany him to the airport gate, so I kept shouting, “Get on the plane with the big shamrock!” unsure if my 16-year-old would find his way without my guidance.
A cousin told me she understood my feelings after moving her oldest to college. While that was challenging, this felt different. For me, this was the moment my son truly became an independent adult, fully supporting himself. There would be no “boomeranging”—he was leaving, and it was likely permanent.
For over twenty years, I aimed to cultivate his independence. Yet when the time actually arrived, I found it harder than I anticipated. I had grown so attached to this new adult, who knows my thoughts and flaws better than most.
I gazed at the framed photos adorning our den: his happy little boy self with a bowl haircut and that infectious smile. From nursery school and camp to little league and high school, those memories filled the room. His college yearbook picture shows him not stiff in a suit but relaxed, unshaven, and radiating warmth in his burgundy T-shirt under a black cap and gown—my favorite snapshot.
As we organized his new apartment, tears threatened to spill. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but he saw right through my facade. “Are you okay?” he asked, and I lost my composure for a moment. He enveloped me in a bear hug, understanding my heartbreak.
After settling everything, I stepped into the hallway of his apartment. As I turned to leave, I caught sight of him in the doorway, proudly waving goodbye with that familiar smile. I descended the stairs and sat in the car for a few moments, not wanting to drive away. I looked up at his lit window, realizing he was embarking on a new chapter of his life, and this farewell was unlike any I had faced before.
For those navigating similar transitions, you can find support and resources on how children can stay connected with grandparents during social distancing in one of our other blog posts. If you’re considering starting your own family journey, be sure to check out the excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination at the NIH. Additionally, for the best home insemination kits, visit Cryobaby.
In summary, as we say goodbye to our firstborn, it’s a bittersweet moment filled with pride and sadness. Watching him embrace his independence is both a reward for parenting and a reminder of the precious childhood memories we shared.