Fanfare for homecoming
Cindy on October 14th, 2009
You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right. ~Maya Angelou
When my son Nate first left home for college, I felt strangely out of place in my cleaner, quieter house. I wasn’t ready to call myself “an empty nester,” and my early coping strategy included listing all of his holiday breaks on our kitchen calendar. I looked forward to being Mom again — if only for a few days.
Two weeks before Nate returned home for fall break of his freshman year, I channeled June Cleaver and planned a few family meals. I stocked up on Nate’s favorite snacks. I reorganized my deadlines, freeing extra time to take him out for lunch. I retrieved the Halloween decorations earlier than usual, stringing rows of miniature pumpkin lights and autumn leaves across the mantel in our living room. My husband repaired the plaster damage from a roof leak in Nate’s bedroom, and then repainted it.
As soon as Nate walked in the side door, the epiphany struck: What the kid really needed was a low-key week. Stressed-out from exams, our son wasn’t expecting a Martha Stewart fanfare or nostalgic pot roast dinners. He’d been looking forward to sleeping in and simply hanging out with family and friends. He wanted home — in all it’s normal, chaotic splendor. In my efforts to turn his visit into a special event, I’d forgotten that Nate didn’t want to feel like a guest in his own house.
Realizing my error, I backed off and let the week unfurl without a plan.
In retrospect, the high points of that visit were the times we ran errands together. Driving to the dry cleaner, the grocery, and the drugstore, Nate and I chatted about his new classes, his friends in the dorm, and which Guster CD was the best. College had turned my snarky teenager into a thoughtful young man, and I found myself enjoying his company. At last, I felt ready to move on and enjoy this new phase of motherhood.
More than wrinkles and gray hair, our kids never fail to remind us of our own aging. Overnight, they morph from preschoolers in OshKosh overalls to college students in size 12 running shoes. Along with applauding their first steps toward independence, letting go requires that we come to terms with the fact that time won’t stand still for any of us. It’s a sobering thought — and ever more poignant when autumn rolls around.
Last week, I watched the neighborhood teens pose for homecoming photographs in their formalwear. Giddy with anticipation, the girls could barely stand still while a group of proud parents focused their cameras. The boys struggled to look comfortable in freshly pressed suits, not-so-secretly hoping that the photo opportunity would end quickly. Their youthful beauty took my breath away, and my heart ached a little.
It occurred to me then that my days of snapping photos of prom gowns and homecoming suits were over. And I wondered: Had I fully experienced those moments as they unfolded, or had I merely captured them in my camera lens to savor later? How often had I darted mindlessly from one major event or field trip to the next? In my efforts to make things memorable and special, what else had I overlooked? It finally hit me, as Carly Simon sang, that all we really own is the present moment; that these are the good old days.
It’s a worthy thought to ponder before the onset of the winter holidays — before we get tangled up in Christmas lists and decorating marathons and long lines at the malls.
In anticipation of Thanksgiving, I’m composing a little prayer of gratitude for the mundane and the uneventful. I’m counting my commonplace blessings: the bowl of McIntosh apples on the kitchen counter; the mischievous cat chasing the pens on my desk; a lazy morning with the Sunday paper; a hearty bean soup simmering in the slow cooker. This season I’ll practice coming home to the present, to the grace of ordinary days opening one at a time, like the paper windows on my Advent calendar. — Cindy La Ferle
October 14th, 2009 at 3:58 pm
Well said Cindy. And good for you for realizing your son just wanted “home”.
My husband’s grand-daughter is coming back from the East coast and her first few months away at college. I emailed her recently and asked if there was anything special she wanted to do while she was home. I love her answer. She said she wanted to sit in our kitchen and watch me make the stuffing for our Thanksgiving dinner. That’s all.
xo
October 14th, 2009 at 8:03 pm
I love, and believe, this sentiment. When my two daughters were in elementary school, they performed in annual Christmas and Spring concerts. I didn’t videotape them, but sat in the audience, my full attention riveted on the moments, fully absorbing the occasion. I don’t think a video can convey the feelings of presence in my heart from those times.
October 15th, 2009 at 10:53 am
Thanks for sharing that story, Cindy. It reminds me that sometimes, it’s important to “just do nothing” with someone. It’s nice to remember that home is the place where you can let down your guard and just rest and hang out.
October 16th, 2009 at 7:08 am
Perfect. I wrote these sentiments in my own odd way for this past weekend , our Canadian Thanksgiving. I was and am terrible at capturing memories in photos too.
You are such a great Mom to tune in to your son like that , I’m betting he’ll always want to come home.
We are heading to Oakland this weekend to see my daughter… when I asked her what she wanted from home she said the smell of my soup!
October 20th, 2009 at 3:53 pm
Sigh….just lovely, Cindy.
October 24th, 2009 at 10:36 pm
Hi Cindy. So aptly stated! Last weekend I was one of those photo-snapping parents trying to freeze that moment in time as our kids lined up with friends before stepping out to the homecoming dance. I tried so hard to enjoy each minute but what a whirlwind day it was! That’s also how I feel about the past sixteen years of my daughter’s life. While each frozen moment so quickly melts into the next, I’m doing all I can to seize them as they come (and I’m happy to have a little snapshot to delight in later). What else can we do?
November 22nd, 2009 at 9:37 am
[...] So I won’t be posting as often this week, here or on Facebook. An essay I posted last month touches on the topic of grown children coming home to visit for the holidays — and the importance of counting our everyday blessings. If you missed it earlier, please click here to read it. [...]
November 24th, 2009 at 6:27 am
The beauty in the ordinary moments – that’s what we all need to capture more of! I loved this little vignette – I have two girls who are both in boarding school this year (so we get the empty nest experience a little early!) and, like, you, whenever they are home it’s a chance to savor the ordinary moments – hanging out on their bed, watching a funny Youtube video, playing with the dog, it’s just those small moments that add up to the relationship and the memories of love. And all the while I am watching them mature into beautiful young ladies.
Next year the older one will be in college. Yes, it does mark my aging, too!
Really enjoy your site – I’ll be back. Happy Thanksgiving!