Off To College

The photo above is, I believe, the first photograph I shared here of my daughter Charlotte, appended with the following caption…

Here's a fleeting glimpse of my daughter, engaging in one of her very favorite activities, turning the stereo on.....and off. And on. And off. And on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. If the thing survives another month, it'll be a miracle.

This was probably snapped in the summer of 2005, when she was all of a year old.

It’s now the summer of 2022, and she is 18 years old, and in a scant four days, we board a plane to the bonnie highlands of Scotland to drop her off at her chosen university.

As I discussed this past January, we’d been looking at a host of great, liberal arts colleges scattered around the northeast and Midwest (you might remember my account of taking her to look at my alma mater, which prompted this surreal stroll down memory lane). As much as I was covertly pushing for Charlotte to select that school, her heart lay elsewhere. She wanted to challenge herself and carve her own path (as opposed to ensconcing herself in her father’s nostalgia trip). She ended up choosing a further-flung school over in the UK, albeit realistically no further than had she selected a school on the West Coast. It just feels further because it’s in another nation on the other side of an ocean.

In earlier, somewhat panicky attempts to stem the direction the tide seemed to be flowing, I kept repeating the mantra that “you can’t fly home from Scotland for a weekend.” While, no, you technically can’t really fly home from Scotland to New York City for a weekend, I kept thinking about all the times I’d flown home from college, and could really only remember one occurrence during the early part of my senior year when I jetted home to catch The Mission UK performing at The Ritz. Adjusting to college as a freshman was tough and all that, but I just got on with it. I have all faith that my daughter Charlotte will be just fine and do the same.

But even once she made her decision, it still seemed like this abstract concept that I was more or less in denial about. I was and remain incredibly proud of her. She’s gained entry into this prestigious institution and it’s going to be a remarkable, broadening experience for her, but I’m still finding it so hard to reconcile that we’re here already. Where did those 18 years go? How is she this old already?

After months of planning and preparation and packing and logistical red-tape-unspooling (setting up bank accounts and phone plans, etc.) it’s all happening next week.

I expect to be a complete basket case.

Wish me luck.