My son has flown the nest, so I’m happy for him and a little sad for myself

My eldest, armed with two large suitcases, has moved interstate to study at uni. It’s not a total leaving. He’s boarding while he studies and returning home in the uni breaks. But it is a big change for us.

It’s exciting – a great opportunity not to be missed. It’s good timing, too, channelling all the remainder of that ferocious year 12 focus and energy into another stream, to be spread more evenly between academic and social pursuits.

Am I sad? I was a little, contemplating his departure in a vacuum of knowledge about the university in a state I don’t know well. The prospect of a quieter house did not thrill me. There is joyful chaos in having family around. I miss the opportunity to ruffle his hair or plant a kiss on his forehead on the way past the couch. I miss chatting on the edge of his bed even if it did usually include a suggestion he tidy his room and repetition of stories he has heard before.

But then I left and I flew interstate, and had the chance to walk around the university and see its bright, cheerful buildings and dreamy grass lawns. I saw his room was cosy and pleasant with a little balcony overlooking an internal garden. I discovered how the student leaders (mostly second years) welcomed the “freshers” so warmly, that they understood the newness of living at university for newcomers and invited them to lunch while offering great tips on useful items to purchase for their rooms.

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I had forgotten that aspect of university life. People are so friendly, self-deprecating, full of understanding, funny and warm. It is as if some life force, some creative spirit, held in check by the need for rigorous self-discipline at school has broken loose and tumbled out in generosity and joy. Time has stopped running (for now) for these young adults on the other side of secondary school. They are free to frolic and enjoy the world as they please.

My son was bowled over by the spontaneity of friendships. He wondered at the strangeness of not knowing what happens next each day, before the uni courses begin, but has discovered that things evolve naturally. Someone brings champagne to celebrate the successful completion of school. Someone else suggests a beer, or a walk, or a throw of the frisbee and a group seamlessly emerges.

We see the possibilities of this change for the family. It gives us a reason to visit another state, step out of our familiar haunts and explore. It gives us an excuse to travel. All of us will broaden our experiences in a way that otherwise wouldn’t occur.

My adventures overseas were taken in my mid-20s in the confidence of youth that all would be well. Contact with my parents relied upon feeding handfuls of coins into a phone box on the street. If my parents worried incessantly about my whereabouts as we travelled in a general clockwise direction around Europe, they hid it well. Now contact is so much easier to maintain.