School starting and thoughts of motherhood

Recently I spent two days attending an out-of-town training workshop brushing up on some things important to my job at school. When I returned home, I noticed school supplies lists were printed in the newspaper.

Increasingly, things around us are pointing toward the end of summer and the beginning of another school year. Although it is inevitable that those big yellow busses will start rolling again in just a couple of weeks, anticipation of the start of a new school year causes me some mixed feelings. I have very much enjoyed time off work this summer and I don’t exactly look forward to having that come to a screeching halt. On the other hand, I am beginning to look forward to getting back into the familiar school environment, planning each day around a scheduled routine and seeing the students once again.

Back-to-school time signifies changes and new beginnings, along with budding possibilities. It also makes me think back to significant family milestones in years past of first days of school for my own children, including the years when they first left home and headed off to college.

It was five years ago that Megan, my last, packed up her ambitions and about half the contents of our home and headed off to UCA in Conway, making us official “empty nesters.” I remember the ordeal we went through to get her moved and settled into her small, third-floor dorm room in Hughes Hall. Although I had made a conscious effort to prepare for the change, it still felt strange to return home to the realization that motherhood — my main occupation for much of my life — had taken a big turn. I was unsure of what my new and different role as a mother of all grown children would look like. In a very quiet and still house, I tried to think of my new-found freedom as an opportunity to do things I wanted to do for myself, but at that moment it was hard to decide what that might be.

My emotions flippedflopped over the next few days. I apparently had done a fine job of raising my daughter to live independently since she seemed to be doing better without me than I was doing without her. I called her cell phone several times, trying to get a feel for how things were going and to see if I could detect any hint that she might be homesick or missing her mother. I was full of questions. Was she sleeping? What did she think of her roommate? Did she have all the right books for her classes?

Each time I called, however, she seemed to be in the middle of something and too busy to talk. Her answers were polite but short and then she would tell me she had to get going somewhere but would call me back when she had more time. I assured her she could call any time, then waited hoping it would happen.

Several nights later my phone rang at midnight. I quickly answered wondering what terrible thing might have happened to prompt a call at such an hour. “Mom, are you awake?” Megan asked.

“What’s going on, Honey?” I anxiously asked.

“Well, I am getting ready to wash some clothes and I was wondering if I can wash my dark towels in the same load with my dark underwear?”

I sat up in bed and sprang into full motherhood role. Resisting the urge to question why in the world she was starting laundry at midnight, I listened as she described each article of clothing she intended to wash. Together, over the phone, two hundred miles apart, we sorted her dirty clothes into piles.

When the task was completed, Megan thanked me and said good-bye. I slid my head back onto my pillow and closed my eyes. Yes, even though the start of that school year brought drastic changes to both our lives, my girl still needed me.

And, yes, it felt good having my old job back for a few minutes, even if it was on a short-term, consultation basis.

Annette Rowe is a freelance writer and a speechlanguage pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by email at awalkinthepark50 @ yahoo.com.