Flying Solo: A Mother and Daughter’s Transition

imagesIt was a mere 3 minutes and 35 seconds from the time she shuffled her way off the plane and I bear-hugged her, to the time she made a snide comment about the “out-of-style” Bermuda shorts I was wearing. She certainly laughed off most of the “annoying” questions I asked about her experience as a camp counselor, and rolled her eyes when I asked her if she had finished her graduation thank you notes. “I am working like 24/7, Mom! When do you think I have time to write thank you notes?!” I bit my lip as I recall talking to a few days prior as she was enjoying her day off.

However, within 7 minutes and 47 seconds, we manage to find our rhythm, our connection, our flow of conversation, laced with belly laughter, that is unique to us, and which I cherish more than she will ever know. During the hour lay over she had, before we would both fly to Detroit for her college parent/student orientation, we sit down at an airport restaurant, just the two of us, and I exhale. It’s been only two weeks since she left for her summer job, but my time with her seems so much more essential, precious and somewhat fleeting, as she will leave for college less than two weeks after she returns home from camp (and will want to be her friends 98% of that time).

As I sit across from my daughter, who has transformed into a beautiful young woman before my eyes—yet still gobbles up her sandwich in half the amount of time that it takes me to eat mine, and licks her fingers to boot—we talk and laugh, and my heart feels full again.  After not enough time, we hustle to board the plane, and as I take my seat a few rows ahead of her, and pull out my laptop to write, I realize that this life transition that my daughter and I are both currently navigating has caused me to feel off kilter for the past few months (sometimes severely). My sense of balance, orientation and centeredness is askew. The sacred place in my heart and my mind where she has lived is undergoing some reorganization and restructuring.  The “normal” that we have known for 18 years is shifting, and as many times as I tell myself, “She is just going to college, not moving to Timbuktu; you will see her, talk to her, text her and skype with her; your relationship does not end, it just changes, and can be even better than what you’ve know it to be,” I just know myself.  I know that my heart will continue to be tugged and jolted for a while and that it will take time for me to be able to normalize this statement, “My daughter is away at college.”  The word “away” is what gets me.

There is an empty seat next to me and I turn back and get her attention, “Soph, do you want to come up and sit by me,” I ask her with a somewhat pleading look. I follow her eyes and watch her surveying the situation. I know what she is thinking without her even saying a word. She accesses that she is in an aisle seat, I am in an aisle seat and if she moves up to sit by me, she would have to sit in a middle seat. “No, I’m good, mom,” she smiles and gives me a knowing look. I repeat her words in my head, “I’m good, mom.”

And she is. She really is. I swivel back around and stare at my computer in front of me, knowing that I will need to try to find the words to describe the mix of joy, pride, sadness and fear that wells up like a geyser within me. But she is good. Sitting on her own. Excited and ready to delve into her next chapter, the one that she will write without me sitting next to her. As she designs her new life, her more independent life, I hope and pray that she knows that the seat next to me is always available for her when she needs or wants to sit there (even if it means that I have to move to a middle seat).


  1. Tearing up, in a happy way, thinking of the relief it must be to know that you’ve raised that good egg to make it to this moment. I know it’s bitter sweet in ways, but ultimately this is the goal—that they have opportunities and joy along the way. What else can we do?

    • Yes,Nina, this is our goal for sure, but it is such a crazy phenomenon to be in the transition of letting them go after working so hard to raise them. Sometimes I wonder if I have taught her all that I need to teach her but then I remember that I still get to be her mom even after she leaves the house. As my good friend explains, “you go from being a manager to a consultant.” I am just not quite sure how to be a consultant yet, and I am also not sure if I have gotten a promotion or a demotion :).

  2. Beautiful 🙂 I was just telling someone the other day how my daughter and I had our only fights (ever) when she was transitioning from being a kid to being an adult. Her senior year of high school, trying to navigate the strange new world she was entering, it was a little rocky. And it stood out because our relationship was normally so placid. But it’s a tough time. We’re a couple of years down the road now, and things are normal again. She likes being part of the family, knowing that we are there for her, but also enjoys her world apart from us. It’s all good, and I am just thrilled that we have a close relationship- something I did not have with my mother at her age. It’s hard to let go, but the rewards are pretty great too- getting to see the people our kids become.

    • Thank you so much for sharing this, Miriam. It truly comforts me to hear from moms like you that have been through this and have found their way to a new normal. I, too, am thrilled that we have a good relationship, as there were plenty of very rocky times for us along the way. I am also excited to continue to watch her grow and flourish through a slightly different lens than I am accustomed to. She already is showing signs that she will be like your daughter, enjoying her time with family but also liking her autonomy, which like you said, is “all good.” Thanks again for your thoughtful comments.

  3. I am early along on the parenting road, with 3 aged 5 and under – but I believe my friends who have kids of similar age to yours when they say that this day of saying goodbye to our kids and watching them step into adulthood will be here sooner than we know it. *deep breath* how do these long, long days turn into such fast -flying years?
    And then, in just a few years more, our children will be parents themselves… And if the change in my perception of my mom now that I’ve had kids is anything to go by… That will be another wonderful and huge step too.
    Thanks for a lovely and very encouraging post.

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