I have discovered a new area of pain. I felt it once in July and it has happened again.

My son left yesterday for his Freshman year of college. There have been numerous posts on social media by other parents expressing sadness about their kids leaving for college, but I truly thought it would be different for me. I had already been through the goodbyes since he spent seven weeks in summer school at his University. I was mentally prepared not to see him until a planned trip in November, but he surprised our family recently with a post-summer school visit for two weeks. I was convinced that the second goodbye would be easy. I was wrong.

On July 3 I flew with him to Boston to help him settle in and, because I am a teacher, to take advantage of my summer break and spend a few days in an area I was excited to explore. We arrived after midnight and stayed just outside of town with a relative who helped us navigate the train system the next morning. There was a stop within a block of his dorm. He is playing basketball for the school’s team, and since the actual move-in day was July 3rd, we walked into a suite that was already filled with his three freshman teammates.

As we entered the suite they each stood up to meet us. My son had spent some time conversing with them through social media, so maybe that was why there didn’t seem to be any awkwardness. It felt like he walked into an “Insta-Fraternity”, and I knew immediately he was where he was meant to be.

One of his coaches gave us a ride to Bed, Bath, and Beyond so we could pick up items we had pre-ordered for his room. After figuring out how three large boxes and four people would fit into a sedan, my son told us he also had to grab something at Best Buy. I figured it was a new phone charger since he had forgotten his at home but it turned out to be a bit larger in size. Apparently my husband had suggested he purchase a television monitor for his video games. At that point I knew I had no say in the matter, but I did get a kick out of watching  his coach struggle to fit the 50 inch monitor into the trunk of his car!

After we got back to the dorm I realized I was unneeded. Thanks to our Boston area relative I wasn’t alone, so we said goodbye to my son and we left to explore the city.  It wasn’t until that night when I lay down in the bed he had slept in the night before when the tears started flowing. Even though I knew his dreams of playing basketball at a Division I school had come true, I couldn’t stop crying. Even though for the last couple of years I had rarely seen him around the house, I couldn’t stop crying. Even though I was sick and tired of his dirty dishes being left in the sink and his dirty clothes left all over his floor next to his unmade bed, I couldn’t stop crying. Even though he had begun to shut me out of his personal life for the last couple of years, I couldn’t stop crying. And I had a pain in a new place. It felt like it was between my heart and my stomach, but I figured that was from the rich Italian food I had eaten in the North End that day.

I got a few hours of sleep and felt much better the next day. I took the bus to Cape Cod, had a fabulous visit in Brewster, got a “Locals Tour” of the Cape including historic Provincetown, and enjoyed the high speed ferry back to Boston the following day. I met my son for dinner and was able to introduce him to two of my friends from high school who now live in the Boston area. It was a lovely evening. I spent my last night in a hotel near his school, and caught an early plane the back to California.

Fast forward seven weeks. I came home from a long day helping at my daughter’s school with registration. I was ready for some time on the couch and some channel surfing. The house had just been cleaned, so I wondered why there were two duffel bags on the couch. My first thought was perhaps they were discovered under his bed or in his closet by the young student who was now renting his room and needed the space. Then I noticed a new pair of basketball shoes attached to a strap on one of the bags. Could he have left such a nice pair of shoes? I looked away, then looked once more at the bag with the shoes and noticed the name tag. It was a tag from his University, so at that moment my whole body shuddred as I realized there was a good chance he was in town. I called his cell phone, asked him where he was, and sure enough he was in town. I was overjoyed.

For the next two weeks I found dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the spare room he moved into, and rarely saw him at home. I was able to twist his arm into accompanying me on a bike ride on the beach at low tide one morning, but that was the extent of any one on one time I got with him. On the morning of his departure back to Boston, our immediate family (plus two of his friends who showed up unexpectedly) had breakfast at a favorite local restaurant and he was asked what the highlight of his two week break was. I asked if it was the bike ride with me, knowing it wasn’t, but he made us all smile by saying that everything about his break was great.

After breakfast we stopped at his pre-school to take a picture that was similar to the one that was taken the day he started pre-school. Then I drove him to the Airbus pick up spot for his ride to LAX, after which I drove about one mile before I was teary eyed. The pain that came with the tears was again in that place between my heart and my stomach. I guess that spot has been saved for this feeling. The feeling of losing your kid but knowing he was where he should be.