A Dad’s Point-of-View, by Bruce
Sallan
My Little Boy is Going to
College
I hate clichés. I love clichés. I just find it weird when I feel as
if my whole life is one big cliché! Being a parent means you will
undoubtedly experience any number of them. Here’s an arbitrary list
of parenting clichés. Be honest, how many have you
used?
-
Like father, like son
-
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
-
There are starving children in Africa
-
Money doesn't grow on trees
-
I’ll start treating you like an adult when you start acting like
one
-
When you have children of your own, you'll
understand
-
If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand
times
-
Because I said so!
-
Wait until your father (or mother) gets home
-
When I was your age
-
If God had wanted you to have holes in your ears (eyebrows, tongue,
etc.) He would have put them there!
-
Life isn't fair (this one is universal to parents and
kids)
-
When I was your age, I had to walk ten miles through the snow,
uphill, by myself, to go to school
-
You'll understand when you're older
-
Go ask your father (or mother)
-
I'm going to give you until the count of three
-
Running away? I'll help you pack
There must also be a cliché about how time goes by so quickly once
you’re a parent? Just the lyrics from “Sunrise Sunset” bring those
thoughts to mind:
-
Is this the little girl I carried?
-
Is this the little boy at play?
-
I don't remember growing older
-
When did they?
-
When did she get to be a beauty?
-
When did he grow to be so tall?
-
Wasn't it yesterday?
-
When they were small?
-
Sunrise, sunset
-
Sunrise, sunset
-
Swiftly flow the days
-
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
- Blossoming even as we
gaze
I fondly remember my parents listening to his song and tearing up,
while I thought they were being ridiculously maudlin. Now, of
course, I tear up any time I hear it. And, I feel that now that I’m
really living my next big parenting transition: my son is leaving
home. I’m writing this while on a trip with my older son for his
audition at the Berklee College of Music, in Boston.
He evidently did well at the audition, but whether he is
accepted is really not the point of this column. I’ve truly felt
extreme emotions on this trip together, just the two of us. Most of
those emotions have been vicarious! His excitement during the
college tour, his engagement with
the various students he met, and his almost
innocent wonder at all he saw, were just small reminders that he
has one foot out of the door of his childhood life and
home.
There’s no doubt I carry a healthy dose of sentimentality around
with me and that no mother can possibly claim more emotion or
fear of the empty nest than me. I know if I’ve done my
job
asking directions of a stranger would
be impossible for him to do. In its place was a
confident man on the cusp of a great journey, God
willing.
My son is a music fanatic. He lives, breathes, and sleeps
(literally) music. Berklee was like a Disneyland of music
opportunity, toys, people, talent, and challenges. He ate up every
word and sound, was wide-eyed upon seeing the myriad of practice
rooms, the incredible library, the rehearsal halls, and the
absolutely top-of-the-craft mixing and recording
studios.
He also lit up at the sight of all the girls! College girls, each
with such unique looks and styles that I felt like Grandpa. I
envied him all of those hopes and expectations and the wonder he is
likely to continue to feel.
Thankfully, I have few regrets in my life, so my feelings were not
marred by any envy or wishes to go back. I had my fun during those
years of my life. I traveled, attended several colleges, played
college sports, went to Europe between my undergrad and graduate
programs, and otherwise had a blast. I even met a girl or two along
the way.
Now it’s my son’s turn. Now, I get to finance what we can afford of
his college years and hope to hear from him now and then. I’m proud
of him. And, we’re both counting down until January 31, the date
the early action applicants find out if they’re
accepted.