I thought I was going to be o.k. For the past few days my husband has been getting more and more hyper – ‘Have you got…?’’ Have you packed…?’ ‘Where is…?’ has been almost the only conversation apart from ‘Pass the cauliflower please’ for the past week.
Now however he and my youngest daughter are half way down the A1 together with 10 pairs of shoes, a computer, the phone charger and her hottie bottle among other things. We’ll be seeing her in a couple of weeks when we take down the bike – essential in Cambridge, the fridge – the hottest student accessory apparently. And all the other bits that are still in the hall or piled on her bed. Not that she has taken everything – her cupboards still seem pretty full, there is still a chocolate mousse in the fridge and I’ve just picked up three hair bobbles at the bottom of the stairs.
After they left I washed up the breakfast stuff, made a cup of tea and had a rebellious breakfast of Hula Hoops and hazelnut yoghurt. Then I went back to bed for an hour - it was still only 6.30 a.m.
But now I’ve got to get up and get on with my life. There is plenty to do and I even enjoy my work but it is going to be different. No one to share girly lunches with or giggle trying on silly hats in Debenhams. Am I going to turn towards well behaved old age or will I rebel?
The truth is I envy her. I have hardly ever envied anyone in my life – not really. I can admire a beautiful garden or a smart outfit without wishing it was mine, though there are libraries I would like to have access to. I haven’t really got a jealous nature. But she is going to Cambridge to do what she wants to do. All those choices to come people to meet, challenges to face.
I’ve given her all the advice she could possibly need – she can make spaghetti Bolognese without a recipe, which is as good a preparation for life as any, is a good manager of her money and has plenty of clean underwear – what more could I have done. She never did learn to wash up though.
My husband is going to be in for a few shocks – we’ll be able to eat all those things that she shunned – liver, beetroot, fish and boiled potatoes without waiting for a day when she was away. And we have decided to go out, just by ourselves, every week – and a trip to the supermarket doesn’t count!
There will be no more phone calls when I have to explain to besotted young men that she is out – with someone else, though I don’t always tell them that.
I know that we are only one couple among thousands and it is not the end of the world but I’m the only one in my world this morning. I want a daughter who is independent and able to make her own decisions. But she is my youngest, my most vunerable and it hurts. I can reassure myself that her sister has been there, done that as they say and survived, matured and we’re still as close as ever even if she does live a hundred miles away. She has blossomed and bloomed and the chances are her sister will probably do the same.
A child who never grows up is one of the saddest things in the world. But sad too is the parent who won’t let them. Anyway I’ll see her in two weeks – two weeks minus two hours now!
