I’m not sure which was more difficult, watching my son, David, go off to pre-school at age 3 or getting ready now for him to leave college and head off into the world.
At 3, our blond-haired David was full of energy, curiosity and sweetness. It felt as if we were pushing him out into this unexplored ocean by himself when we walked him down the stairs to the basement of a neighborhood church for preschool. He had always lived within the circle of love that we and his regular baby-sitter, Nanay, had erected around him. Now, for the first time, his life would be lived without our knowing every single moment of his day.
He did fine. Of course.
The preschool was run by a woman from our parish, Pat Stitch, who became our friend. And, when he was there, David would do everything he could to follow directions, fit into the group and keep his natural gusto in check. Then he would come home and let his hair down. What that meant was, after a morning of being “good,” he often was irritable, whiny, touchy and aggressive. We were his safety valve, and we were glad to serve that function (although, of course, a bit jealous that Pat got the more reasonable David).
Now David is graduating from the management school at Boston University. He’s got a job waiting for him at Ernst & Young, one of the Big Four accounting firms. He even got a signing bonus (!!!).
At BU, David confronted each new challenge with intelligence and courage. When he arrived, he didn’t know a soul. Now he has a wide network of friends and a deep romance with his girlfriend of two years, Tara. He has been on the dean’s list every semester and has shown a flair for business that he certainly didn’t get from my wife and me.
This summer he’ll have to rent an apartment in Boston on his own — and with his own money (from that signing bonus). He’ll have to take out a loan to pay for a course in June to become a certified public accountant. And he’ll have to start working for a living.
All of that is a little scary for us (1,000 miles away), but even scarier are the longer-range issues that David will have to face: As a husband and father someday, how is he going to balance his love of home with his love of work, his enjoyment of competing and winning? He’s entering a business world where ethics and morality aren’t always part of the equation. Will he be able to find his way to success but still live according to humane, compassionate values?
My wife and I no longer are a safety valve for David but a sounding board. He bounces ideas off us, and we provide advice. (OK, we’re way too quick with advice.) But, more and more, as David builds his own life, and especially now as he takes full control, we’re on the sidelines — where we belong — as his cheering section. He’s face to face with the rest of his life, standing on his own two feet.
He’ll do fine. Of course.
(I hope.)
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