Today, in just a few hours, we are taking my daughter to college. My emotions have been on edge and I can barely get anything done. I’m so very proud and excited for her – and selfishly dreading how much I will miss her. In my interactions with people, these past few days, the most charitable thing that could be said would be that I have not been at my best.

20130821-110428.jpg

When my kids were toddlers, just beginning day care and preschool, the caregivers used to tell us that we needed to be gentle when it came to “transitions” – from home to school, from classroom to car, from playdate to reading corner. I remember thinking this sounded a little new-agey to me, the kind of pseudoscientific jargon that did no one any good.

Now, examining my own emotions and behaviors around this transition, I get it. I can adapt to anything, and I know I will adapt to this new chapter of my daughter’s life. I want to get going, so I can begin to adapt. As I wait, and the transition unfolds, I am forced to feel all sorts of feelings. There is literally nothing to be done, except get through it.

I have a new sympathy for my toddler children, lo these many years ago: they found transitions difficult.

Me too.