Move-In Day

After a delayed departure and very long flight, we arrived in Philadelphia at 1:30am Wednesday to find our rental car had been rented to someone else. As we waited in the humid Pennsylvania night air for another car rental shuttle, I was painfully aware that the time left with my son could now be measured in single digit days, soon becoming hours. 

On the plane ride to Philly, I found myself envying the woman two rows away from us with the rambunctious and vocal two year old. I had to stop myself from telling her several times to 'enjoy every minute!" as she scolded her son for what she thought was being too loud. 

I was comforted by the fact that what seemed like an annoying and long trip to me with delays, awful airplane food (and airplane bathrooms - yuck!) and cancelled car reservations, seemed like a magical journey to my son. He enjoyed the flight, frequently gazing at the nation's major cities lit up like birthday cakes as we flew over them. He was excited for not only the airplane food, but the airport food, even commenting once it would be 'fun' to sleep in an airport if his flight ever got cancelled. 

I must admit, as we waited for our luggage, I looked at everyone around us as someone who could in some way try to hurt, scam, or take advantage of my son if he were here alone at this major metropolitan airport at 1:30am on a future trip. Pearls of wisdom along with ridiculous comments began to flow from my mouth with beauties like "Never take the train this late at night, you'll get mugged!" and "Watch out for gypsy cabs, you'll get mugged!" and "Never take a cab ride from someone offering it at the baggage claim, you'll get mugged!"  My son in return tells me he WILL take the train and that I don't need to worry. I look at his naive and trusting face and worry some more thinking I did not do my kid any favors by raising him in a 'bubble' that is our hometown. 

I remind myself that he is confident and does not in any way seem bothered by the things that seem to bother me...and once again, that gives me comfort. 

As we wait for our second rental car of the night, my son wonders aloud where the nearest 24 hour pizza place is and if they deliver.  I remind him not to spend all his money on pizza (or beer) at which my son becomes mildly annoyed  - and then it hits me. Hard. 

My role is shifting from mother to advisor, one who gives advice.  But to clarify, I must wait for my son to ASK for it, and recognize that even IF he does, he may not follow my advice anyway. And that is how it will and has to happen. 

At this exact moment, I'm cherishing the last few minutes I have watching my son sleep in our hotel room, as we are minutes away from the alarm clock urging us to get up, pack up, and move our son into his new college and new home for the next 9 months.  I panic for a moment as the alarm goes off and not only does my son not notice, but he doesn't even stir. I stop myself from translating that into him sleeping through his alarm at school. 

Once up and moving, my son's phone pings with an email from his Italian teacher at Villanova - Gaetano Pastore - with a syllabus for his upcoming Intro to Italian class. I find that very cool. 

I put on a smile and get ready for this new adventure my son is moments away from embarking on. He's got his boxes, and I've got mine - only mine are filled with Kleenex.