Tracey Jackson » THE PUFFINS TRAIL

Sep 12, 2009

THE PUFFINS TRAIL

Well, it has been five days since leaving Taylor in Boston. People keep checking in to ask how I’m holding up.

Without question the first night was the hardest. And people have told me the feelings come and go at the oddest times.

Activity being the best revenge, I was so busy for the first few days and we are in touch all through the day so I didn’t have a chance to miss her in the dopey, mopey stay in your PJ’s all day way.

I would hear a song she plays or see a girl around her age though young enough to still be at home and I would get a pang, but I was pretty cool for most of the time.

Wednesday was my first day back in the office in eight weeks so there was so much to catch up on. And then Wednesday night was the first night of the screenwriting class I teach. And then of course Lucy is starting school (tomorrow’s blog) so there was a ton of things to do getting her ready for her new year.

Thursday started off with me realizing I’d left my wallet in a cab the night before so the entire morning was filled with cancelling credit cards and trying to figure out how to get my driver’s license from California before I go out there the end of the month. And then as I was on my way out the door to attend Dominick Dunne’s funeral my step-mother called to tell me my father was on his way to intensive care but they didn’t need me out there…yet. Blessedly he seems to be coming through, but it made for a worrisome twenty-four hours and Tay was checking in and I had so much to deal with here her being gone didn’t seem like such a big deal.

But I must say yesterday was rainy, bleak and miserable outside and I found myself thinking about her a lot. I was at Whole Foods and bought her favorite cereal just so we always have it. I bought Cheddar Bunnies, which she still adores at eighteen although Lucy at nine refuses them.
And then last evening around six I was cooking in preparation for some friends coming over, the sky was getting really dark and I thought, “Oh, Tay will be home soon.” It is the time I always start looking for her if she hasn’t appeared.

And that was when the wave of sadness really hit me. She isn’t coming home, not tonight, not tomorrow night, maybe not for four weeks and this is life as I have to live and accept it.

I missed her when the guests were here as she might have been with us or might have said hello and drifted out in a cloud of Euphoria perfume for a night on the town.

The sense memory of that caused me to go in her bathroom and spray myself with her Euphoria, a scent I have always disliked, except now it smells like her and I have grown deeply fond of it.

My friend Dominique called me to check in and told me about all the phases to expect. But if I write about them before I go through them this won’t be much of a blog.

Suffice to say it’s Saturday, a day we would grab a coffee or get a manicure. Music would be coming from her room and towels and Puffins would mark the trail of her whereabouts in the house.

It is quiet, calm and no question something vital is missing.

But she is adjusting to her new school and surroundings. She has made friends and starts classes on Monday.

For her sake I am happy she is in college and she is venturing into this new exciting chapter, but if I were looking out just for me, I wish she were starting ninth grade and we were arguing about how much to spend on a backpack.

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Posted in Freshman Mom

Vanessa

This is the third weekend of sophomore year and the first time my paranoia is bubbling up. One thing that has made me feel immensely more secure this year is that I know my son has made a few good friends. I’ve met several, like them all and they have been good to him. This has helped a lot for my peace of mind. I no longer worry that he’ll find himself alone in some nightclub with all of his new friends long gone, forgetting that he was with them, and someone has stolen his wallet and his phone and he has to sleep in a doorway like a homeless person. These are the kinds of thoughts that kept me awake countless nights freshman year.

This weekend Billy is taking his first day (evening too probably) trip to Manhattan. He already called and said he had better go because he only had one bar left on his phone. (My heart flutters slightly at this comment as I bemoan to myself, why didn’t you charge your phone??) Now I know my son has traveled the world. He was born in Hong Kong and hasn’t stopped traveling since, but he was really raised in a small town in South Carolina. Additionally, and this is the main point of my post, he isn’t really street smart, so New York scares me.

For some reason I was born with street smarts. (I used to think I had brain smarts, but then I grew up and met some really brainy people, so now I no longer think of myself as particularly brain smart.) My son, on the other hand, has his own brand of smart, which I call heart smart. He seems to see inside of people, and even pets, and knows what they are thinking. For example, on our first trip to New York together to visit his school, we braved the subway, mostly so he could get the hang of riding the subways. It was a Sunday afternoon and we were riding on a practically deserted subway through Harlem probably. It was bad. Anyway some guy got on our train and started singing loudly, obviously trying to draw attention to himself. My immediate reaction was to look at the floor, completely ignore him, check out the exits and any safe looking humans within earshot. Meanwhile Billy just looks up and listens to his commotion. Fortunately the guy got off the train within a few stops. So I said to Billy, “Look you really have to watch out for people like that. He was probably high on something, had a knife in his pocket and could slash us to pieces!” He responded to me….”Did it ever occur to you that the guy was just happy?” Now how can two people with half the same genes have such completely opposite takes on this little situation?

Anyway, I think what I am saying is that it is so hard to prepare your children for everything they may encounter in life on their own. Oh I have tried, though, and will keep trying, but utimately they really will do it on their own and see things their way and learn different things, and I guess that is one beautiful part of life and how unique each individual is.

After I wrote this last night we got a call from my 90 year old mother in law, who is quick and agile and lives independently. She called to ask if we had heard from my sister-in-law (her daughter) who is 67 years old and traveling to Maine with her 68 year old husband. She said that she had been worrying all day because she can’t reach them, and she knows they are out of cell phone range and she keeps thinking something has happened to them, maybe their car broke down, maybe they are sick……..So I laughed (to myself) and realized that my worries are far from over!!
tracey

What a great story about the in-laws. A lesson for us all. Thank you for sharing it.
http://www.dennispalumbo.com Dennis

Hang in there! From what all my therapy patients tell me, when it comes to sending a child to college, the first weeks are the hardest. Hell, it was hard for me when our son started the 7th grade! In town!
Heather

Thanks, Tracey,

I love this blog and am storing away your wisdom for year after next. Sob.

Heather
http://yourscreenplaysucks.wordpress.com Will Akers

You’re lucky you have girls.
They seem to get arrested far less than their male counterparts.

They do hug you real hard when they get out of the patrol car, though. So (almost) worth it!

I think it’s nice to have no children in the house. It’s amazing how it stays tidy and clean. We run the dishwasher far less, do next to no laundry, and can leave the house for two days at a time without worrying about liquor getting stolen or the cops showing up.

College. REALLY expensive day care. But it’s sleep away day care…
http://yourscreenplaysucks.wordpress.com Will Akers

The movie PARENTHOOD said it all… Jason Robards, I believe, is Steve Martin’s father. Steve is Tom Hulce’s father. Steve is coming to Jason Robards for advice about what to do about his problem son, and Robards says he thought, at some point, that it would end, his having to deal with all the problems.

And on screen, he gets the revelation that it will NEVER end. They’re always going to be a problem.

Welcome to parenthood! It ends when you die.

I actually like the whole thing, which is fortunate, cause I’m stuck with it.
Noreen Farrell-Herzog

Dear Tracey

My close college friend (Emerson ’81) sent me your blog as I too have left a freshman at Emerson College. Daniel is my oldest of three children. It was a summer of mixed emotions with him… pushing and pulling. It ended with a tearful goodbye on Boylston and Tremont Ave. Each day seems to be getting better as our new , smaller family adjusts to a quieter house and new dynamic. The first couple of days last week were crippling at times, catching me at odd moments… not buying the pasta that he loves at Trader Joe’s, expecting him to bust through the door with his brother at 4:00p.m. from school, moving his prom picture out of the kitchen, and let’s face it… moving forward in time without me.
Week one down and no numbing phone calls. He likes his classes and has not gotten into a car accident. Oh yeah, he’s in Boston not driving a car. The one brilliant concilation prize for having him 3000 miles away.