To Infinity and Beyond
As the plane takes us to our destination, I glance toward the grown boy sitting beside me. He is staring out the small oval window at the world below. His stature is that of a full-grown man, his body mass taking up more of the seat than mine does. His legs seemingly cramped in the restrictive space provided in the passenger row of an aircraft. This “boy” is on his way to become the man he is meant to be, and I am just along for the ride.
We are on our way to Florida to visit his top 3 colleges. It still shocks me to look in the direction of my oldest son and not see the blonde, curly haired toddler I expect to see. On this day, the small glance in his direction brings acknowledgment of the chore at hand, followed by an overwhelming rush of emotions for what that means for our near future. In a little less than a year from now, Jacob will be leaving home for college and the household family dynamic of 6 will inevitably shift.
Visions of the young boy he once was come to mind. The tiny infant who only fell asleep by burrowing his head into the crook of my arm. The toddler who would get his finger tangled in my hair by twirling the strands around his chubby forefinger as he soothed himself. The 5-year-old who obsessed over everything Buzz Lightyear, a foresight into the future he is now seeking to obtain. All the worry we had over the years. All the proud moments of achievement. All the times we consoled his losses and cheered his determination. All those moments were leading us to a point of hand off. A time when we would release him to the world so he could make it his own. The time is nearly here for us to do just that, and I was about to show him a few directions he could take.
My emotions are at a high. As the day quickly approaches, I am sad, but also excited for all the possibilities laid out before him. Up until this point, we have toured a half dozen colleges in person and about a dozen online. We have looked at programs, majors, student life and location. We have analyzed his acceptance potential to each school and the possibilities of attending on a ROTC scholarship. We have met with teachers and counselors. He has taken the tests and began his essays. We are doing all the things and checking all the boxes on the college bound to do list. Now it is time to take the leap and look at schools 1300 miles away from home – in Florida. Which has been his unwavering plan for the past 5 years.
Jacob’s interest in attending a school far from home does not surprise me. He was never a “clingy” child and has always jumped at any opportunity to travel – with or without us. When other parents expressed how their children were resistant to the thought of overnight school trips or even sleepovers, I could not relate. Jacob has always loved a good adventure and a change of scenery. At the young age of 5, he jumped at the chance to spend a week alone at his grandparents on Cape Cod. Each summer that followed, he looked forward to that week away while I counted the minutes until he returned to me.
Time has certainly slipped away as quickly as I was told it would. My curly haired baby boy is now practically a man. He towers over me and is slightly taller than his dad. I have watched him graduate elementary school, struggle through a few bad years of middle school and persevere in high school (despite the challenges of a global pandemic). He has done his job. We have done ours.
As we navigate our way toward the next phase, I find myself wondering if I have done enough. Have I provided him with what he needs to be on his own? Did I hug him enough? Does he know how much I love him? Does he know I will be here to cheer him on (no matter what)? Did I hug him enough? Did I do too much for him? How will he get all his shit done without my reminders? I just can’t imagine going through my days without parenting him (or as he would refer to it – “hounding him”).
But did I hug him enough?
Here is what I hope next year will look like: Kindergarten drop off. The week leading up to that big milestone 12 years ago, I remember wondering how on earth he would get by without me? I just could not fathom this small child doing the simplest things without my assistance. For instance, how on earth would he be able to go through a cafeteria line without me holding the tray? Seriously, this was one of my biggest concerns. I could not imagine that little boy navigating through the school lunch line, without dropping his entire lunch in the middle of the cafeteria among all his new peers. Regardless of my fears and embarrassing visions of his lunch all over the floor, I let him go. I dropped him off in the school yard with all the other worried Kindergarten moms at my side. I watched him line up, head toward the door and march right in the building – without a glance in my direction. He did it! Without me holding his hand – he did it. And to my knowledge, it was a successful day. Cafeteria line and all. And I am pretty certain next year, all my premature worrying will prove to be just as irrelevant as his ability to carry a lunch tray.
Watching your children grow and stretch their wings is such a paradox of wants. I want him to still need me, but I hope he never does. Inevitably, both needs will be met at one time or another.
Our goal for this year makes my heart soar and break all at the same time. Next September, Rich and I will drop our Jacob off at one of these schools we are visiting. That shift in our family dynamic will come faster than we could have ever imagined. From now until June there will be football games, semi formals, senior banquet, parties, prom, and graduation. There will be essays to write, financial aid to fill out, scholarships to apply for, applications to submit and acceptance letters to receive. It will be a year of celebration, worries and more celebrations. And it will go by in the speed of light.
Ultimately, Rich and I have done our job teaching and guiding him the best we knew how. We have given him all the tools we had, now it is his turn to figure out how to use them. With all the stumbles and triumphs, we all have had to endure along the way.
Our trip was a lot, and it meant everything to me. We saw 3 schools in 4 days across the state of Florida. It was an ambitious schedule that we enthusiastically tackled together. Being able to spend 4 whole days with him enabled us to get beyond our to do list and really talk about his future. I had the privilege to watch his face light up over the opportunities each school had to offer as they were described by the tour guides. Now, when the time comes to choose the school, I will be able to picture him on campus. I needed this week to focus solely on him. I realize now, it was more for me than him.
Jacob will forever be that curly, little toe-headed, sweet boy to me, but man am I proud of who he has become – someone with integrity, a strong work ethic, humble pride, and stead-fast determination. I saw evidence of all of this during our Florida adventure.
We ended our week at Kennedy Space Center. In my planning, I thought it would be a fun way to relax before heading back to Boston. What I discovered, during those final hours in Florida, was a priceless lesson in relentless motivation for my ambitious 17 year old. Each attraction emphasized a strong underlying message of “Anything is possible”. It left a lasting impression on me and one I could not resist pointing out to Jacob.. For any senior, this message is vitally important to receive, however to MY senior… it is everything.
Jacob is heading to college with aspirations of Aerospace Engineering. Up until our excursion to KSC, each time he mentioned his chosen major, it was met with words of warning regarding the difficulty and the percentage of failure for those who pursued that path. It frustrated me to hear this from students, presenters and even our valet during our short 4 days of discovery. Jacob is beyond capable of taking on this challenge and the message we had been receiving was against everything I believed in. I feared the words from the negative naysayers would seep into his psyche. Jacob needed to hear “anything is possible” but even more, he needed to KNOW “anything is possible”.
Sure, it will be hard; I know that and so does he (after all, it is studying to be an actual rocket scientist). However, listening to the struggles the space program faced and how many times it failed before a man was actually launched into space, left Jake not only believing in his ability to succeed but looking forward to the challenge of it all. I believe with all my heart that if we have a passion and put in the work… anything is possible. I plan on instilling this belief in all my children.
Peering out the airplane window at the world below, I wonder if Jacob realizes not only all that world has to offer him but what he has to offer in return. I pray he has confidence in his own ability to commandeer the next phase of his life and I encourage him to have faith in his unlimited potential to follow his dreams with determination and perseverance, wherever those dreams may lead him.
To Infinity and Beyond Jake. Go get ‘em.
