When your firstborn goes to college, he piles his things in the car and hugs his little brothers goodbye.
“Why do you have to go?”
The littlest one begs the question and one more game of catch.
“It’s time for me to go. It’s time for me to be a man, get a job, and do the best I can. My body is done growing, now it’s time for my brain to grow up too . . . and then maybe someday I’ll have a family and kids just like you.”
“Why do you have to go?”
The next brother said it with his eyes and not his voice. Big brother gave him a hug and said, “I’ll come home soon.”
And nobody really knew what to say. And that was okay.
“Why do you have to go?”
The next brother knew exactly why, and those two tall teenagers gave each other a hug that almost made their mama cry. After years of watching them argue and fight, I knew that we had done something right.
“Why do you have to go, son of mine?”
Of course I don’t have to ask; I knew this day would come ever since he was a little one. We are meant to raise up kids so they can spread their wings and fly. Why am I caught by surprise that college move-in day is such a hard goodbye?
When your firstborn goes to college, he piles his things in his room and hugs his mom and dad one more time. “Thanks for all you’ve done. I promise I’ll be fine.”