To: The Dear One on Your Way Home for a College Holiday
/Re: Managing Expectations
I have been counting the days until you return. I’ve missed having you woven into the dailiness of life in our house. You’ve been so busy, especially these last few weeks. At the beginning of the semester, everything was new. You navigated new places to eat, and sleep, and study. You met hundreds of new people at a time. Living away from home, you learned so many things about life in the world; you’ve been fully responsible for your daily life. And of course, you learned a lot of things taught to you in lecture halls and between the pages of a book. You’re tired. I hereby promise that even though I want to talk with you and hear all about all the things (and solicit your help with kitchen duties and Christmas lights), I will bide my time and recognize that what you want most in the world at first is just to sleep — in your own bed or in the corner of the couch you wore into the shape of you during high school. I’ll let you sleep. And then, let’s catch up.
Late nights studying, added stress, crowded planes and trains to get home; you may walk through the door feeling quite ill. I won’t be surprised. Though I surely hope you will stay well, if you are sick, we’ll adapt. You’ve been working hard (and probably playing hard, too), and it takes its toll. I’ll remember that and help you heal. I’ll feed you well, and offer you a break from institutional food that doesn’t quite nourish the same way homecooked meals do, no matter how good the meal plan.
I know that just as I’ve been counting the days until I see you, you have been counting the days until you can hang out with your high school friends. Let’s strike a balance, shall we? I won’t take it personally when you want the keys to the car almost as soon as you’ve arrived, if you will take a moment to sort your laundry before you go. And as we settle into the season, remember that I’ve missed your friends, too. Invite them to our house. I’d love to see them again.
While we’re talking about the car and going out, please remember that this is not a college campus. The people who live here get up in the morning to go to work, or they have work to do at home. They go to sleep at reasonable times and wake before the workday begins. We also eat in the kitchen, put the toilet seat down, put dirty clothes in the hamper and clean clothes in the closet. It might take us both more than a minute to get used to sharing space again. When (if) alcohol is served, it accompanies the rest of the evening’s food and entertainment. It isn’t the star of the show. I guess what I’m saying is that this is our home, and we function a bit differently here than from where you’ve come. Please bear that in mind as you re-enter our world and adjust as needed to being at home again. We can talk about old curfews and new considerations. There’s a way for us all to grow together, especially if you don’t assume that none of the old habits are necessary any longer. Some of those habits are just part of living together well. They’re here for the long haul.
This is not my first time to welcome someone home. I learn something new every time. One thing is certain: that college break goes by in a blink, and I’ll be sad when it’s time to hug you goodbye again. What I want you to know before it even begins is that sometimes I let my idealistic notions of the perfect holiday get between me and you. This time, my plan is to let experience temper my expectations, to let go of the ideal, and to cherish every moment of the real time I have with you.
I am so glad you’re coming home!
Love,
Mom
