We moved our son into his college dorm last week. We’d done it before with our daughter, so the territory wasn’t brand new. But it was certainly still an emotionally adventuresome trek.
I’m going to miss him, and the rhythm of my life is altered, probably permanently. I’ve spent almost 26 years on the high wire, balancing my professional life with the responsibilities that come with being a parent. Now when I schedule a closing I won’t have to dread a child’s sneeze or the moaning that accompanied a stomachache, knowing full well that an illness could disrupt all my carefully laid plans. I don’t have to consult the school calendar before writing in my own, and I can schedule an evening contract signing without fear of conflict with “Meet the Teacher Night.”
My clients may be on the winning side, getting a bit more of the attention they temporarily crave. But no contract signing or closing can make up for the loss of daily companionship of a really interesting person who occasionally needed you to help propel his life forward (or at least soothe his tummy trouble).