A child departs, returns and departs again

In late August we took Madeleine to college, at Wellesley 3,000 miles from home. We had three fun days of being tourists in Boston, which helped her to get to know the city a bit better, using public transit. Then came a final trip to Bed Bath & Beyond - huge and busy with lots of college students coming to the Boston area. The day we moved her into the dorm, Barney was not feeling well, so Madeleine and I did most of the moving and unpacking - up three flights of stairs as the elevator was broken. And it was hot and muggy... the East Coast.  Her dorm is old and rather like something from a Harry Potter film, lots of beamed ceilings and stained glass. After the lunch and address by the President, and one last trip to her room to unpack some things, it was time to go. It even said "families depart" on the schedule, so that was pretty clear. Everyone started walking away in small groups, and we did the same, heading over toward the small lake on campus. We hugged tightly, all three of us, and cried more than a little bit. We all said we'd miss each other, but Barney and I reassured Madeleine that she was going into a wonderful new phase of her life with new friends and new experiences and we supported her fully. We walked her back to her dorm, watched her as she went up the path to the door ... and then as she opened the door to go in, I expected her to look back one last time, but instead in she went ... and into her new life. We saw many other tearful goodbyes and sniffling parents on our way back to the car. We got in, held each other tightly, and just cried for a while. We knew we'd miss her so much.

Last Sunday she left to return to college after Thanksgiving, and I realized all day that I was in a kind of mourning. We awakened very early that day to get her to the airport, and there were long hugs and a few tears as we parted, all too soon. I had rehearsal all day so was fairly occupied with that. But as I left rehearsal and checked my cellphone I saw that I had missed a voicemail from her a few hours before,after she had landed. I listened to it ... her voice, speaking in French (as she often does when in a public setting and she does not want people to know what she is saying), in tears on the bus back to school, telling us how much she missed us and everything about being home, how she did not want to be back at school, she wished she could have juts stayed in Oakland. I called her right away, and heard her, still crying, really inconsolate, being comforted by her wonderful roommate Nabeela. I tried not to cry, too, but it was hard, as I realized I just ached for her. By the end of the conversation she seemed better, saying she had a paper to finish before classes started the next day.

The next day, Monday, both my husband and I were quite down in the evening. we tried to cheer ourselves up, and had planned to do some Christmas decorating, but neither one of us really felt like it. We realized we were mourning her loss, realizing how large the hole was in our lives that had been filled for a few brief days. And I realized her sadness was a lot about missing us and some about missing Revels ... she has been a part of Revels since she was 10 years old. For almost half her life, Revels has been an intense and joyous part of the holiday season for her. And now she does not have this in her life, and the day she spent at rehearsal gave her a taste of what she was missing. When she played the role of the Lord of Misrule onstage during rehearsal, it looked so normal to see her standing there, just like she had for many years ... at one point I think the director forgot that she was not in the cast and left her onstage during chorus blocking. She loved being there, it was clear. In the evening, we had the group who sang and played on the lullaby CD, for a "listening party." The music was beautiful, and everyone was thrilled wit how the CD sounded. For me, it was delightful to be able to sit back and listen to the beauty of it, instead of looking for errors and edits that needed to be fixed, as Dave and Shira and I had been doing for many months. One of my main motivations in doing this was to be able to sing on the CD with Madeleine, and that dream was fulfilled. During editing it was hard for me to hold back tears when I heard her voice, and now when  listen to the music and hear her, as a solo, duet or just in her section, I tear up. I miss her so much.

Four Weeks Until She Leaves for College

And I think I'm already grieving. My daughter Madeleine starts at Wellesley College on the 25th of August, less than four weeks from now. She just returned from visiting friends in Paris and London - she's travelled to Paris several times and is fluent in French - but this was her first time travelling without an adult (parents or teachers) to intervene when the inevitable travel problems arose. I think I can say I've trained her well and she is confident in herself, because she dealt with various delays and cancellations with competence and maturity. She also had a great time on this well-deserved trip. And my husband Barney and I enjoyed ourselves, doing some things we have not done in a while, trying out new ventures like the Fire Arts Festival at the Crucible in Oakland, new restaurants, sailing in the tall ships parade, and more. I'm beginning to glimpse what it was like years ago before Madeleine was born... something we'll be learning a lot more about in the years to come. It's interesting how when a child has been such a big part of your life for 18 years, it is hard to imagine what it will be like when she is not there (almost) every day, enjoying the laughter and silly moments as well as the emotion and challenges. I'm sure there will be some serious feelings of emptiness - somehow I really dislike the phrase empty nest - feelings that as a young parent I could not have possibly imagined. Barney and I are incredibly proud of her and are confident she will do well as she launches into this new phase of her life. It does make me recall what it was like in those breathless early days of young adulthood when everything seemed new and possible ... and the possibilities are much greater for her than they were for me in 1974. So I will try to revel in her excitement and new achievements, allow myself to miss her loving companionship and sparkling personality, and hope that the love and guidance we gave her growing up will be a strong support in the exciting years ahead.

Recording my with Daughter

Today has been one of the best days of my life. We wrapped four days in the recording studio working on a CD titled "Lullay My Sweet One," which included my daughter as one of 10 singers and four instrumentalists. The opportunity to create this beautiful music with her, watching her grow, singing with adults and blending and attending to details like a real pro, was one of the happiest days I can recall. Everyone we worked with was superb, musical, emotional, sensitive, and so terrific to partner with in this project. Above all, Shira Kammen has been an amazing inspiration: first agreeing to do this project, selecting repertoire, arranging pieces I had heard, conducting and making us into an ensemble, coaching the instrumentalists, making all of us sing more beautifully than ever, encouraging us and inspiring us to do better each time. She is truly amazing. I am so proud that Madeleine had the chance to work with Shira on this project. And even if we never sell more than say 100 Cds, I will be completely happy for having done this project together.

Firsts and Lasts as My Daughter Graduates High School and Goes off to College

I joined a Mother's Group when my daughter Madeleine was a few weeks old. We met around the blankets, nursed our babies, talked about the challenges of being a new mother and going back to work, and made lifetime friendships. In a few weeks, our children will be graduating from high school, and we will celebrate again as we have so many birthdays, halloweens, holidays and just being together. One of the Moms wrote a beautiful piece in the SF Chronicle for this Sunday, Mother's Day titled "The Great Letting Go," which prompted my teary thoughts this afternoon ....

When we first got to know each other as new mothers, our lives were all about our children's "firsts" - first time sleeping through the night, first real smile, first tooth, first word, first steps, first Halloween, first Christmas, first night in the big bed, first visit to out-of-town relatives, first day at pre-school, first day of kindergarten, first new friend, first field trip, first baby tooth lost, and on and on through first overnight school trip and first day of high school.

Now I find our lives are filled with "lasts" and every one of them makes me tear up: last Halloween (I insisted on taking her annual costume photo), last family birthday at home in October, last Christmas, last soccer game, last family ski trip to Yosemite, last Revels performance and our last time doing that beautiful duet together onstage, last chorus concert, last drama performance, last Easter, last time I take her to school in the morning, last time I make her lunch for school, last Mother's Day this weekend here at home together (and that afternoon our last performance together for a long time, the opera Acis & Galatea, and you can bet I'll be a wreck after that one), last, last, last. The whole year has been a long string of these lasts.

A friend pointed out to me that soon she'll begin a new string of firsts - first day at college, first college class day, first college romance first time home from college on break, etc. But these will be firsts that in we will no longer be a part of ... they will be her firsts alone, no longer a shared and treasured part of our lives. It's all part of growing up, but yet I know for me it will be hard to let go. I found myself thinking about how we could possibly celebrate her 18th birthday on the 3rd of October from 3,000 miles away, and then checked the college schedule and found out that Family Weekend is the 3rd & 4th of October. I think we'll definitely be going there for her birthday. Maybe we can still have a few more firsts ...