My son, after spending only one semester away at his first college, decided to transfer over winter break to another university in a different state. I immediately flooded myself with frustration. Did he not care or remember how we had spent the last year? The entire time consuming and expensive process it took to get him where he was, to now, being told only four months later, that he wanted to not only leave but to do it all over again!
Oh the difference, I thought, between parents and teenagers. I was like "what about you applying all over the country to select what you told me was the best school for you, or the airline tickets, shipping boxes, rentals cars, food, hotels, school and dorm supplies it took us to get you there?" He was like "I know myself and what I need to do and this is what I need to do."
Well, he had me there. The fact of the matter is he does know himself. He always has, to the point, where I admit, I am a little envious of how he has ALWAYS known who he is and what he wants to be. Since birth might be an exaggeration, but, if we are born with that ability, well, then, after meeting him, you would believe it too.
Now, the other part, about how this is what "he needs to do", well, that took a little more convincing. However, that became blatantly obvious too. The school ranking.....literally #1 for his major. Internship possibilities.....yep, better in that department too. Closer to a support system made up of his girlfriend, our close friends, and his mentors, all at an arm's reach vs. being nowhere near anything or anyone familiar to us....yes, add a check mark next to that one too.
So, here we are. Back at again. Airline tickets, hotel, food, dorm and school supplies....you get the picture. After jumping through those same hoops but landing in his new chosen place, we made this transition happen for him. I was weighing in on how his first week went in his new environment and heard all about how his dorm floor mates have rushed in to welcome him and I couldn't help but notice the excitement in his voice about his classes that I never heard before. It made me happy and I peacefully reminded myself of how he is using his bag of tools.
I stumbled across this poem last year and it's strange how its words have been dancing around in my head throughout this whole process with him and how much it has helped me put my mind at ease since my initial freak out:
A Bag of Tools
Isn't it strange
That princes and kings,
And clowns that caper
In sawdust rings,
And common people
Like you and me
Are builders for eternity?
Each is given a bag of tools,
A shapeless mass,
A book of rules;
And each must make-
Ere life is flown-
A stumbling block
Or a stepping stone.
By R.L. Stine (abt 1890)
We are builders for eternity and every phase is a stumbling block or a stepping stone. My son, thankfully, has never seen the blocks, only the stones. These past four months laid the ground work for this moment by giving him the grades and experience he needed to find the next stone. His shapeless mass has indeed taken shape and, although, he is still forming it, he continues to know which rules to follow and what tool to use in life to get him further in the right direction.
So, I am butting out, and, instead, encouraging him to keep building and keep using his bag of tools. I look forward to seeing where this university takes him. There are simply no stumbling blocks for him, and I need to use my bag of tools to break through the frustrations of parenting so I can continue to realize that he is the builder of his eternity, not me.
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