The Unlikely Messenger: A Slice of Life with Debra Brown
The excitement had dimmed since the weekend trip to NC for Meredith’s dorm move-in and the start of her first year of college.
We’d worked toward that move-in weekend for months – but in reality, we’d planned it since her birth.
We spent the summer handling the final details on her college-bound to-do list and checked off items.
I smiled when anyone said to Meredith, “How exciting! You’re flying the nest.” But the reality hurt my heart.
Then, on a hot Friday in early August 2008, we loaded Meredith’s belongings into the SUV. We drove to NC, checked into a hotel, and spent two days converting the bare dorm room with two single beds into her new home.
I made it OK through everything – until we hugged goodbye, and I watched our only child in the rearview mirror, standing alone, frantically waving.
I said little as the sun began to set, sending long shadows across the roadside as Allen navigated the roadways for the six-hour drive home.
He’d been reticent, too, except for asking many times, “Are you OK?”
I’d sniffed and said, “Yes,” while staring out the window in an effort not to break down and sob.
I didn’t mention the questions swirling in my head. Would Meredith like her roommate? How would she manage when sick? Would she do laundry, study, eat healthy? Would she miss us, too?
The next day at the office, everything was quiet except for the whir of the ceiling fan.
I barely noticed as warm sunlight shimmered through the window, illuminating the room with soft light. I felt numb, tired, and melancholy, still thinking about the previous days.
That’s how my friend Joyce found me when she stopped by to check on me.
“How are you?” she asked, her voice filled with concern as I motioned for her to sit by me.
“I’m fine.”
Joyce tilted her head and gazed at me. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“You’re not fine now, but you’ll be fine again.”
I nodded.
“How was the move-in?” she asked, changing course.
“Just like you’d expect. Chaotic, exhausting, and bittersweet,” I answered. “But Meredith was pleased with her room, so it was worth the effort.
And we all survived. It was touch-and-go at times with three headstrong people working together while getting in each other’s way and on each other’s nerves.”
We laughed in unison.
“Honestly, I felt fine until Allen drove off without Meredith.” I closed my eyes, remembering.
“No one prepares you for the long ride home.”
I didn’t mention my biggest concern. Had Allen and I done enough to prepare Meredith for this next step of independence?
As if reading my mind, Joyce said, “You’ve done a good job raising Meredith. She’s smart, personable, beautiful, and quirky. She’ll find her friends. And I’ll be here for you.”
I appreciated her support as she leaned closer and gave me a shoulder hug.
“It’s OK to be excited for Meredith but also to feel sad your family life is changing.”
“I know,” I said. “Motherhood and parenting have been a big part of my identity, and now what? It feels like life as I’ve known it is over,” I lamented.
Even so, I felt blessed by the past 18 years and every birthday party, holiday, family trip, dance recital, chorus concert, science project, prom, drop-offs, pickups, the waiting, and the watching.
“I’m grateful for everything that’s happened to get us here today. I’m glad Allen and I were a part of it,” I said, struggling with my emotions.
Joyce handed me a tissue and said, “Now, you must let go and let God.”
“Let go and let God,” I whispered and took a steadying breath.
A sense of peace washed over me as a soothing warmth filled me from within, chasing away my worries.
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts, and minds through Christ Jesus” – Philippians 4:6-7.
As her mom, I’d worry about her forever. But I could move forward by sharing my concerns with God, knowing He’d watch over our daughter.
Even now, many years later, I remember Meredith’s first year and her dorm move-in. The fear, worry, sadness, and the long ride home were only part of it.
There was also a sense of accomplishment and excitement about a new beginning. Though different, our parenting continued, and we created many joy-filled college memories.
With Meredith living in Texas, I often remind myself to let go and let God. It’s comforting that He continues to watch over our family.
Debra Brown’s motto is “Be the Spark.” She has a passion for family, her 3 cats, flowers, pretty food, and health & wellness. Debra is an author, UGA honors graduate/The Citadel MBA.