For my son, on the first day of university

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

You’re 18 years old, and it’s the night before you start university. Today was new student orientation, and I missed seeing you off because I was taking your brother to school on the other side of the country. But I’ve been watching you these past few weeks. I’ve seen you checking and rechecking which rooms your classes are in. I’ve seen you go get your haircut, researching textbooks, buying your first computer, and asking casual, yet nervous, questions of people that have been there.

I know you’re nervous.

I know you’re excited.

I know you’re on the cusp of terrified and exhilarated.

I wish I could capture this moment and just slow it down, so that both of us could savour it for a little bit longer.

My mommy heart wants to protect you. I want to soothe your fears. I know you’re afraid. Afraid that you’re taking the wrong courses. Afraid that you’re going to fail, before you’ve even started. Afraid that your hockey concussions are going to affect your ability to learn. Afraid you won’t be able to keep up. I wish I could tell you that I know the answers to any of those questions, but I can’t. I don’t know.

But I do know a few things.

I know that you’re one of the smartest people I have ever met. I know that even though you feel that high school was the best time of your life and nothing could top that, that your university years will also be pretty fricking amazing. I know that you will make hundreds of new friends, and have hundreds of new experiences and your life will go hundreds of different directions over the next 5 years.

Savour it. Enjoy it. Breathe.

It seems like yesterday that I was looking at a little boy in a striped shirt with a Bob the Builder lunch kit and light up shoes, smiling at the camera on his first day of preschool. You were nervous then too. But as soon as we got there your hand left mine and you were off – forging ahead, making friends, learning, growing, transforming before my eyes.

And now you’re letting go of my hand again.

You may fail. That’s okay. You may not get into the program you want. That’s okay. You may get your heart broken, and your confidence shaken, and your computer stolen. That’s okay. It’s all part of the process. I know you well enough to know that you will pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get back in the game.

I know right now you want to just get it done and get on with your life, but don’t rush this. You have the rest of your life to worry about stuff. Take this time and enjoy it.

I believe in you. I believe you can do this. I believe the world is your oyster.

I am so very very proud of you.