We took my daughter, Hannah, for her 2nd year of college on Tuesday of this week. I wrote two posts when I took her to college as a freshman in 2016 – one that I posted, and one that was too personal for us to publish. Now, after a year has passed, I’ve updated it, and we are ready. This is what it was like for me on the day that I had to let my daughter go.
I woke up early, the sound of the noisy hotel room air conditioner stirring me to wakefulness. I hadn’t been awake for long before the realization of “the day” hit my consciousness. With a groan, I felt the heaviness settle once again upon my soul. It was the day that a child often longs for and a mother dreads and it comes in a variety of ways.
It was the day to let my daughter go.
For years I have known that the day would come…the day that I would take my baby girl, my only daughter, to college. I used to count how many years until the day, then months, and then weeks. Now I’m counting days. I wasn’t sure how I would handle it, but now that it is here, I’m finding that I’m handing it okay. As long as I don’t think of “the lasts.”
It was a Sunday morning, and my teenage children and I were together at church. My son Gregory was in the worship band, rocking it out on his bass guitar. He was swaying back and forth, almost dancing, and belting out the song lyrics with a strong confidence. Later, during communion, I found a quiet place to pray with my daughter Hannah. I let her pray first, and she prayed so long that I didn’t think I would get to have a turn. She prayed a beautiful prayer that touched my heart.
It was later in the day as I was relaying these events to my husband that I realized that in spite of myself, my children had turned out well – they are hard workers, they have tender hearts and they unashamedly love Jesus.