First Steps to College

It was my sophomore year of high school when I realized that my mother and I had very different plans for post-high-school plans. I went to St. Paul Academy, so was thinking of small private colleges. My mom had basically just assumed I would go to the U of M, because that's what you do. 

It wasn't until several arguments ("Why am I even GOING to a prep school then?!"), and my mom attending a conference hosted at Princeton, that we came to agreement. I have to say that after that my mother worked really hard to make sure I could go to the college I wanted to, and when my big fat package (complete with financial aid) arrived for Tufts, she made sure I could go. She also made me understand, though, that I had to have a work study job, and earn tuition over the summer, and apply for scholarships.

I don't know if she missed me as badly as I already miss Beatrix, and clearly I can't ask.

I do know that, maybe because of that history, it was important to me that Beatrix was able to go to a college that was all she dreamed of, and that she used her time in high school to prepare for that. She did a fantastic job of that: of touring schools, and applying, and appealing financial aid, and evaluating what she wanted. I'm very proud of her.

I'm glad Patrick gets to drive her out there, and I'm somewhat jealous.

And though she's gone from the house, I'll fly out on Tuesday and be there as she moves in. So it's kind of a limbo right now. 

She's ready for this.

But watching the car pull away today was one of the hardest things I can recently remember.






And her cat misses her too.
 






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