That's Life: Not All Nests Left Empty
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| College students who moved out are now moving home after graduating. |
Though most college graduates appreciate all that their parents have done for them, they are eager to live on their own once they leave the campus that has been home to them for four years. But not all of them are able to fulfill that dream.
According to MonsterTRAK, a leading Web site for college students to find jobs and internships, 48 percent of college graduates live in their parents' homes. The economy and the need to repay student loans have been cited as the main reasons graduates are not striking out on their own.
I, of course, wanted my children, Jennifer and Christopher, to develop into responsible, independent adults, but in my heart I longed to have them return home after they graduated college.
Cupid, however, made other plans for Jennifer, so she married her sweetheart, Frank, shortly after she graduated from Long Island Institute of Technology. Then "home" became for her wherever she and Frank lived together.
When I was upset because my first-born, Christopher, had left our home in New York to begin his freshman year at Williams College in Williamstown, which I then thought of as the other side of the moon, a dear friend said reassuringly, "He'll be back before you know it."
The day Christopher graduated from Williams College, my husband helped him carry his belongings from his dorm room and load them in our car. But we only drove him to a nearby house in Williamstown as he was to spend the summer there, working on a research project for a professor who was writing a book.
That September, Christopher went on to Princeton University where he earned a master's degree in political science. Next, he attended the University of Michigan, graduating with a law degree. Though Christopher proved my dear friend wrong, never returning to live with my husband, Bill, and me, he did visit us whenever possible during the years he was broadening his education. And about a month before Bill and I were to move to Williamstown, Christopher spent a week with us in New York.
Wanting to capture memories on film, Christopher photographed the rooms of our house as well as the back yard. He also roamed the neighborhood, camera hanging from his neck, stopping to photograph places he had frequented in the 20 years we had resided there.
Using roll after roll of film, he snapped photos of the park where on scorching days, he, as a tike, had run through the cooling water cascading from sprinklers; the school yard where he had played baseball and basketball; the pizza parlor where he and his friends had gathered; the bike path he and my husband had rode many an evening and the church where we, as a family, attended Sunday Mass.
Over the years, we have teased Christopher about his penchant for being thorough as well as a perfectionist, and when he returned from his mission, we made such comments as, "You're too much!" "What are you going to do with all those photos?"
Years later when my husband and I visited Christopher in his high-rise apartment in Arlington, Va., from which he commuted to a law firm in Washington, D.C., I came upon the album in which he kept the photos of the family homestead.
Looking at the photo of our dining room, I remembered my mother and father and sisters sitting at the table, enjoying the turkey dinners I cooked on special occasions. Their laughter and happy chatter echoed in my ears.
How my children adored my mother in whose eyes they could do not wrong. They were always excited when they knew she was to visit. "Will Grandma be here when I wake up?" they would ask when they were toddlers and I was tucking them in bed.
Christopher is now a devoted husband and father, but in some ways he has not changed. When he made ready to drive his wife, who was expecting their first child, to the hospital to undergo a Caesarian section, he not only put her bag in the car but a baby remembrance book as well.
A few hours after they arrived at the hospital, a nurse announced to Christopher, "It's a boy." While visiting his wife and son a few minutes later, Christopher made an imprint of his son's feet in the baby book.
So, the circle of life continues, and now it is my turn to be the doting grandmother.
God willing, the day will come when my son and his wife will watch their "baby" Jack graduate from college. Will he return home? Time will tell.
