Today I am many miles away from home, dropping my “baby” off at college. Thirty years ago, I was in his shoes. Although I was wearing knock-off Docksiders and he’ll be wearing something much more hip, I’m sure. And I was not nearly as far away!
I don’t remember what I was thinking or feeling that day. Probably a mix of nervousness and excitement. Which is, coincidentally, a bit of what I will be feeling as a parent, I suspect.
Back in my day, the era of typewriters and record players and payphones and high-waisted jeans, college was heralded as “the best years of your life.” But for me, they were not. Looking back now, I know I did not choose a good school for myself. And I was shy, with no self-confidence. And, yes, it was then that I began my long struggle with yo-yo dieting. Not that it was a horrible four years, mind you. I had some fun times. I made some great friends. I earned a degree, albeit it impractical. But for me, the best years of my life came later.
Oh if only I’d known then what I know now. If only my son was receptive to the wisdom of my years and experience. But alas, teens are teens and in their minds, so much smarter than any parent could ever be. I am sure I felt the same way, at his age.
I hope that the next four years ARE the best years of my son’s life. For now. While they are happening. Filled with adventure and fun and learning and growth. But I hope that the years that follow are even better. I hope the best year is always the year he is living. And I hope he lives it to HIS best.
When were the best years of your life?
Any advice for my son as he embarks on his college career?
What do you miss, or NOT miss, from the 80s?