By Kristy McCaffrey
When
my two boys were young, they frequently used the word “pathway” to describe a
direction they wanted to go. It was an unusual description for them to utter
since my husband and I never used it. You’ll note that my blog is called Pathways,
which is a direct reference to my children. Pathways lead to all sorts of
places: a sidewalk in front of a house, a stream in the woods, a new direction
in life.
 |
Sam and I at
UC Boulder |
I
recently dropped my oldest at college. Samuel is 19 years old and beyond ready
to begin his life. That readiness took some of the sting from watching him exit
our world. When he was a toddler, I’d delayed his start to kindergarten, something I realized a
few years later was unnecessary. First child, many mistakes. However, I had one
extra year of him chomping at the bit to gain his independence. We parents will
take whatever we can get.
Sam’s
destination was the University of Colorado at Boulder, a really lovely campus
in a really beautiful location. My husband and I met his roommate, we bought
him a bike, I organized his clothes because like most moms I worry he won’t do
it correctly. Mostly, I just worry he won’t do it all. As I’ve said many times
to my children, life is much easier if you’re organized. But when a mom speaks,
kid’s ears automatically close. Really, it’s a thing.
 |
The Columbine Trail in
North Cheyenne Canyon,
Colorado Springs |
The following day my
husband had a business meeting in Colorado Springs, so I accompanied him to Colorado Springs. With
an afternoon to myself I spent 6 hours hiking my sadness away. I found an
easy-to-follow yet rigorous trail in North Cheyenne Canyon. The Columbine Trail
was eight miles roundtrip. Just what I needed. And being alone was welcome.
When Sam was born, he was 8 weeks premature. I remember then that I didn’t want
to make idle chitchat with others—I simply didn’t have the energy, anxiously
visiting him every day at the neonatal intensive care unit at Magee Women’s
Hospital in Pittsburgh. And now, I didn’t want to talk either. It was as if
conversing would spill too much from me. I wanted to keep it all close—my
memories of him, my joy from having him in my life, my happiness as he embarks
on a wonderful new phase, my heartache from simply missing him.
 |
View from the Columbine Trail ~ Colorado
Springs is in the distance |
 |
| Samuel at Magee Women's Hospital in Pittsburgh |
Three
days later I hiked again, this time an attempt at the summit of Mt. Humphrey in
Flagstaff, the highest point in Arizona at 12,633 feet. The 4-mile trail,
beginning at the Snow Bowl Ski Resort, is strenuous and hard-to-follow in
places, with a 3200 foot elevation gain. I attempted it earlier in the summer
with my husband but heavy cloud cover had left us confused and we lost the
trail, so we never made it to the top. This time I went with my dad, who knew
the area. When I told him our stories of Sam and college and concerns and woes,
he just laughed. I finally knew exactly how he and my mom had felt when I left for
college all those years ago, me being his eldest. I could now appreciate not
only their restraint in showing their grief, but also the financial support
without probing my every monetary move. (I think of my year in the sorority that
cost my dad a fortune—he never berated me when I decided to quit.) I can only
hope to be as supportive with my own children. My husband and I still have three
more to go.
But
back to my attempt for the Humphrey summit—I didn’t make it again. At around
12,000 feet I knew I needed to turn back. After 4 hours of hiking in the rain,
I was drenched and in the early stages of hypothermia. It’s a really strange
phenomena when your fingers stop functioning and it’s not from frostbite. I
made several mistakes with my clothing (I should have donned a rain poncho from
the start and not worn layers of cotton clothing, which don’t dry quickly), but
I also learned two things: push your boundaries but know when to heed that
inner voice. My dad never tried to sway me either way. Perhaps that is the best
parenting of all—buoy your children to step outside their comfort zone but at
the same time let them think for themselves. Entering young adulthood isn’t
unlike a long hike: there will be ups and downs, there will be good stretches
along with exhausting slogs through the mud, and there will always be the
unknowable aspect of the journey.
You
can choose to stay where you are, or instead follow the pathway.
Sam—your father and I are here for you, but I promise to keep my weeping to myself.
This
statement is, of course, redundant—people love coffee and Starbucks does it
right. I’m certain I can’t give any insight that many of you don’t already
know. But a recent conversation with my husband made me realize the deep,
abiding relationship my family has with this establishment.
But
$9,000? I don’t go to Starbucks every day. In fact, I strictly adhere to a rule
of not going to Starbucks more than once a day when I do
patronize. I’m very proud of myself for that practice, although I’ll admit it has
more to do with calorie intake than cost. So I think his estimate could be
downgraded to, say, $7,000. However, that’s a lot of money. We sure could take
a nice vacation with it. But isn’t that what going to Starbucks is all about? A
little mini-break in the middle (or morning) of your day. It’s delicious, it’s
fun, it’s relaxing.
