Amanda Lamb: On her own
It’s happening. My oldest daughter is moving to New York City for a job. The past few weeks have involved shopping for household items, packing and trying to figure out how to get it all into a small moving van. My husband is in charge of the actual moving part, and I am staying with my daughter for a few days to help her unpack and set up her apartment.
Somehow, even though I know this is it, not just a college apartment, not just a brief stop along the way to her final destination, it doesn’t seem real yet. It doesn’t seem real that “coming home” will mean her popping in for a holiday or an occasional visit and staying in a room that used to hold all her stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure there will still be some stuff left behind, but it won’t be the same as it was before. “Home” for her will now be the city where she works and rests her head each night, the place where she will gather with friends and celebrate milestones without us.
I plan to visit as much as possible but realizing that you will be “just visiting” your child from now on as they move through their life journey is a little bit daunting. I always said when children go to college they never really come home. I still believe this to be true for the most part. But when they get a job and an apartment and start their adult lives, they are truly out of the nest forever.
So many parenting milestones are bittersweet. You are at once proud to have launched a child into the universe and sad that they are beginning a journey that doesn’t involve daily parenting. It's about firsts and lasts—the first post-college job, the first post-college apartment, the last time they actually “live” in your house, the last remnants left behind, a few random clothes left on hangars in a mostly bare closet, a few high school or college mementos left in a dresser drawer.
I remember my first job out of college and my first apartment. It was not nearly as glamorous as New York City. I was a television reporter in Myrtle Beach. I don’t remember my parents helping me move or being there to help me get settled. They certainly weren’t there when I was down to just a jar of peanut butter, macaroni and cheese and ketchup in my refrigerator. But what a glorious time it was. I was broke, and working crazy hours, but I was on my own. The freedom I felt in that first year of adulting cannot compare to a life now married to so many pressing responsibilities. My dream for her is that she will revel in this moment and remember it for its daunting obstacles and beautiful moments. Because this is it. This is the day her story begins…
Amanda is a mom of two and an author of several books including some on motherhood. She is also a WRAL reporter and successful podcaster. She began writing Go Ask Mom columns in January 2010 and took a short break in late 2021. Now, you can find her posts monthly on Go Ask Mom.
